


Threads of gold

by ColdPorridge22



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Healing, Injury, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Superpowers, healing ability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdPorridge22/pseuds/ColdPorridge22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After touring, Phil doesn't think his life could get any more difficult, seeing as he's having trouble hiding his feelings for his best friend and roommate, Dan Howell. Then a mysterious being with slate grey eyes and a gold thread bracelet gifts him with a healing ability. Phil now has yet another secret to keep from Dan - one that might drive them further apart.</p><p>On top of that, Phil needs to figure out what exactly he's supposed to do - and what price he'll be paying in the process.</p><p>Rated M for blood and injuries.</p><p>FINISHED!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A gift

Turning right, off the little earthen path and into the woods, Phil Lester let the trees and bushes obscure his figure. The leaves and twigs beneath his sneakers were the only sounds in this secluded part of the park. He walked a little further, until he reached his favorite spot. A fallen tree became his seat as he sagged down on it. He rested his elbows on his knees and his forehead on his hands, closing his eyes in fatigue.

 

A distant rushing sound declared the presence of a little stream. If Phil had opened his eyes, he'd have seen the sunlight reflecting on the water, a little ways downhill from his spot. When the light hit it just right, the stream turned into a glittering string of diamonds. That was one of the reasons why it was his favorite place. But mostly it was the fact that no one in London seemed to know this little part of land. Hardly anyone went off the beaten path, instead choosing the wide, even lanes that led to the big lake where half of hip London congregated, making sure everyone could properly see how fancy the pram was they were pushing, or how perfect they looked in their uncomfortably tight jogging gear. But even the people who preferred the twisting, narrow path that Phil had taken, barely a foot wide, they still didn't know that turning right between the old oak and the gnarly brier bush led to this little spot.

 

Phil didn't come here often. Only when he was feeling sad or overwhelmed, or one time when he'd had a fight with Dan, only then did he come here. Phil wasn't usually prone to sadness and he was rarely so overwhelmed that he needed to escape the house. He loved his home - no, _their_ home. He loved living with Dan and he could talk to him about almost anything. Almost anything.

 

One problem he could not discuss. One problem that he never shared, but that always burned in the back of his throat, threatening to spill out at an unguarded moment. He had never told Dan the one thing that made his heart clench. Instead he took it with him at the end of every day, when he bid his best friend goodnight and he closed the door to his bedroom behind him.

 

Their home, but his bedroom.

 

And that was kind of the gist of the problem. Together, but apart.

 

Phil let out a long, deep breath, then let the warm smell of the earth and the leaves and the trees fill his nose and lungs. It calmed him down, but hardly comforted him. Seven years he'd been in love and seven years they'd been friends. Best friends, not boyfriends.

 

When he'd met him online in 2009, he'd fallen in love almost immediately. Well, not so much 'fallen' as 'plummeted to Earth like a meteor'. But like a meteor, he'd been burned to cinders in the protective sphere around Dan, burned out and pulverized into specks of dust. The great irony was that he'd cast the protective shell himself.

 

A few days before they were due to meet in Manchester, Dan had Skyped him. He'd broken up with his long-time girlfriend and school had thrown him every which way. He was panicking about the future and what he should do. Phil hadn't known what to say. He fully realized then that Dan wasn't just the fun-loving, sarcastic hot guy he was on the internet. He was real. A person dealing with sadness and insecurities and problems that anyone just turned 18 was slowly starting to see. It had hit Phil with force. Phil was 22, already on the path he wanted to be on, but he remembered being 18 and lost. And 19 and lost. And even 20 and lost for a few months.

 

He'd planned to see if Dan would be open to anything romantic, a subject he hadn't yet dared breach, but that plan was off the table. He fully grasped then how young Dan was - especially compared to him. What Dan needed, more than anything, was a friend. And if he wanted more, he'd wait for Dan to come to him.

 

And friends they were. Ever since, and closer each passing year, as Phil secretly fell deeper in love. And the closer they became, the smaller was the possibility of _ever_ being more than friends. Really, that possibility had been shot down the minute Dan discovered the first 'phan' shippers and reacted in disgust. Phil remembered how he'd cried himself to sleep that night. A shadow of the pain he'd felt that day still fell over his heart.

 

Phil sighed again and lifted his head. He blinked once, twice, to let the tear gathering in his eyes slide down his cheeks. The woods were quiet. Only a bird chirping and the sound of the water disturbed the silence.

 

He felt overwhelmed. They'd just returned from touring. It had been fantastic, amazing. Dan and he made an incredible team and they were, if he may be so blunt, great on stage. He'd loved being on tour, seeing so many different cities, so many people. And he loved sharing hotel rooms, because he could look over and see Dan fall asleep, or wake up slowly in the morning, soft and clear-eyed and his terrible bed-head. They'd talk, about big things and small. And even though they were on separate beds, Phil still counted it as pillow talk. The best part was after each show, sharing the exhilaration with Dan, panting and hugging and laughing breathlessly as they exited the stage. And the worst part was letting go when he wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

 

They were home now, having landed the previous day. They'd agreed to stay home for at least two months, in order to recharge and save up a bit of money before setting out to conquer the next part of the world. They'd settled back into their little nest, their domestic cocoon. But when Phil had woken up this morning, there was no one else in the room, no one to share soft whispers in the morning light. And when Phil had exited his empty bedroom that morning and had seen Dan in the kitchen wearing one of Phil's hoodies, it had become too much. It washed over him, how much he wanted Dan to be his, how much he hated that his bedroom was empty. And how long he'd have to wait before he had a reason to hug Dan again.

 

The air had felt too thick to breathe. Wordlessly he'd gone back to his hollow room, changed into a shirt and jeans, fighting with thick, clumsy fingers to get his sneakers on. He'd left then, mumbling something about a jet lag and needing fresh air as he passed by the kitchen. Dan had replied something, but he hadn't heard.

 

He loved his life. And he hated it. He had no idea how it had ever gotten this complicated, but sometimes he thought there was some sort of manic god of randomness who threw him a bone one week and then pulled the rug from under him the next week.

 

Phil was sick of being tossed about. He just wanted some peace, some clarity and rest. And he wished that Dan loved him back.

 

Why was his life so convoluted? He picked up a twig, rolling it between his fingers as he contemplated his predicament.

 

The twig had no answer either.

 

"You're difficult to catch alone, you know."

 

Phil jerked back in surprise, falling backward off the tree trunk with a yelp and a thud.

 

"Who are you?" He demanded, sounding more in control than he was. He scrambled to get upright, grappling at the leaves and twigs.

 

A woman was standing in front of him. She appeared to be mid-twenties, with long blonde hair and grey eyes that seemed like an afternoon storm. Fear rose in Phil's throat. He hadn't heard anyone approach. There hadn't been any signal, no breaking twigs, no rustling of leaves. And yet here she was.

 

"Did I scare you?" She cocked her head to the side, mirth twinkling in her grey eyes. She spoke with an accent, but for the life of him, he couldn't place it.

 

Phil managed to get upright, wiping his hands on his jeans nervously.

 

"Who are you?" He repeated without answering her question. She hadn't answered him, after all.

 

"I guess you can call me... Chloe, if you must." She shrugged, as if she'd just come up with a random name. She probably had.

 

Silence fell between them. Phil felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he wondered if he could outrun her if she tried anything funny. She was wearing a summer dress in a light cream color, draped loosely around her unassuming figure. On her feet were _stilettos_ of all things. With a start, Phil realized her feet, or at least the heel of her stiletto shoes, should have sunk further into leaves and dirt, but instead she seemed to rest on the ground as if she weighed less than a feather. She did not even leave an indentation on the fallen foliage.

 

This was not good. This was not _normal_.

 

"What do you want?" He asked. His mouth was dry and he definitely sounded braver than he felt. His heart beat fast, adrenaline pumping, readying his body for fight or flight.

 

"You've been feeling a bit directionless, haven't you? A bit unsure, unhappy?"

 

Phil didn't answer. The air seemed thicker, somehow. Stifling.

 

"I have come to give you a gift." She spread her arms, as if it was the most fun surprise Phil could've gotten.

  
"I don't want it." He replied with a stony expression. Whatever it was, it couldn't be much good.

 

Chloe cocked her head to the other side and smiled sorrowfully.

 

"I'm afraid the cost of rejecting will be much higher than the cost of accepting."

 

He didn't like the sound of that. He took a tentative step backwards, to see whether she'd react. She didn't.

 

"What's the cost of accepting?"

 

He tried to keep the conversation going as he took another step back. Maybe there were joggers on the path, if he could only reach that, get to some open space...

 

Chloe wasn't moving.

 

And then she was.

 

Lightning fast, she lurched forward and grabbed his arm tightly. Phil yelled as an inhuman pressure clenched around his arm, trapping him in his place. He tried to pull away, but he couldn't. Her fingers were like claws, gripping tighter and tighter. Her bracelet, a woven thread  of gold wrapped around her forearm in the figure 8, glowed brighter, shining like the sun. He tried to yell again, scream for help, but his throat was not working.

 

A jolt of pain shot up his arm, past his elbow, his shoulder, up his neck, to explode in a fireball of light behind his eyes. He was blinded, only gold in his vision,  the pain overtaking his brain...

 

It stopped. All pressure, all pain suddenly vanished and Phil dropped to the ground like a marionette puppet cut from his strings.

 

She was gone.

 

The air seemed to flow back into the woods and he could hear the birds and the water again. Only now he noticed that the sounds, like the air, had vanished when... that _thing_ was there. It may have looked like a girl, but Phil was definitely sure that was not all she was.

 

He was shaking all over as his brain slowly caught up to the events. What the hell had she done to him? He lifted a trembling arm, the one 'Chloe' had grabbed. It looked normal. It felt normal. But what had happened, was anything but normal. The pain in his head had disappeared too, as if it had never been there.

 

He scrambled up - the second time that day - and before he knew it he was running. He ran back to the path, down to the main park road, nearly bowling over two joggers when he tore around the corner. They yelled something at him - he didn't care. He needed to get home, he didn't want to spend another minute in this accursed park.

 

Top speed he ran, weaving through the throngs of people that got thicker as he neared the main road. He skidded around another corner.

 

He had seen the trash can, and he'd avoided it narrowly, but he hadn't seen the piece of metal sticking out. He gasped in pain as the metal cut deeply into his arm, from the back of his hand up a few inches on his arm.

 

He didn't stop running, even when he looked down dazedly and saw the blood welling up from where the metal had sliced through him, red flowing out like lava from a rent in the earth.

 

"Shit!" Phil hissed, teeth clenched as he grabbed his arm, trying to close the wound and stop the flow of blood.

 

Blood was dripping down his arm now, splashing drops of red on the pavement. Phil whimpered as he closed his hand tighter around his arm. He did _not_ want to go to the hospital and get stitches. Or a freaking tetanus shot, which he definitely needed now. But he just wanted to be home. He increased his speed, desperate to get as far away as possible.

 

Out of breath, he finally reached his street and slowed down to a walk. He panted raggedly. He was safe - almost home. He shouldn't be so out of breath when he did, he didn't want Dan to start asking questions yet. He needed to sit down and wrap his head around what exactly had happened in the park. Now that the panic was subsiding and his brain became clear, he could think again.

 

He took his keys out of his pocket as he approached the front door. But as he lifted his arm, he stopped.

 

That arm had been bleeding.

 

Had been.

 

The blood was still there, painting his arm red, but the skin underneath was whole and pale and completely unharmed.

 

"What the fuck..." Phil breathed.

 

He didn't believe it. He'd felt it, it had hurt like a bitch. He remembered it clearly, the metal, the pain, watching the blood well up. Where the hell was the wound?

 

He entered their house in a daze, careful not to smear blood everywhere. As he made his way up to the bathroom, he washed away all the blood. Sure enough, he was completely fine. Not a blemish on him.

 

Making up his mind, he found one of the disposable razors they'd kept around for emergencies. Phil reckoned this counted as an emergency. He cut the thin blade across the back of his wrist, the exact patch of skin he'd torn open earlier. He waited a few seconds, letting the wound bleed freely. He wanted to be sure he was wounded.

 

He cleaned the razor and threw it away. With his heart in his throat, he steeled himself for his experiment.

 

He closed his hand over the wound again. To his surprise, he felt a spike in the pain and then it subsided completely. He took his hand away and washed the blood off.

 

Not a scratch on him.

 

As if in trance, he walked up the stairs and into the living room. A healing ability. He had a freaking healing ability. He hardly noticed Dan as he sagged down on the sofa.  He couldn't believe it.

 

"You alright? You weren't kidding about that jet lag." Dan remarked with a raised eyebrow.

 

Phil looked up, distracted from his thoughts. The worry in Dan's warm brown eyes made him forget about the scary slate grey eyes for a second.

 

"Yeah, yeah. Just feeling a bit off."

 

Dan quirked his eyebrow again, as if to say ' _yeah, no kidding'_.

 

Phil looked down at his wrist again. He'd bled there, twice. Twice there was an actual wound and he'd closed it both times, without a shred of evidence of the injury... He lifted his wrist a bit higher, inspecting whether he truly couldn't see any remainder of the wounds.

 

"Are you counting down the minutes until you realize you're not wearing a watch?" Dan said dryly as he saw Phil frowning at his wrist.

 

Phil dropped his arm and felt his cheeks flush.

 

"Shut up. Tell me what we're watching." He said, indicating the TV in order to get Dan to look away from him.

 

Dan launched into an explanation of the new anime he'd found and wanted them to try, but Phil couldn't keep his attention. His mind kept drifting back to that little patch of woodland in the park, the slate grey eyes and the bracelet made of golden thread. And the question.

 

His unanswered question.

 

What was the price of accepting?

 

 


	2. Midas

Chapter 2

 

"I'm not going."

 

"You promised!"

 

"I've changed my mind."

 

" _Phil_."

 

Dan crossed his arms and glared at his roommate and friend, who was being _very_ obstinate. They were in the hallway, Dan blocking Phil's attempt to sneak to his bedroom.

 

"Look, I'm tired, alright? I don't want to lug that stupid piece of equipment back to the BBC. We just came home." Phil groused.

 

"They need it back _today_. You know they'll have our hides if we don't bring it back in time?"

 

Phil sighed in dismay. They'd borrowed a rare set of lighting equipment they'd used on their show and they needed to return it. And yes, technically, Phil was the one who had promised to return it - albeit after Dan's clever use of what Phil had secretly dubbed as Tactical Puppy Eyes™. Dan knew damn well what made Phil cave and he didn't hesitate to use it. Especially if the tasks involved going outside or carrying heavy stuff.

 

Phil wasn't keen to leave the house after what had happened this morning in the woodland in the park near their house. He felt safe at home, but he wasn't so sure about anything beyond the front door. With a shudder, he remembered the pain when that girl, or whatever it was, had grabbed his arm, the intense golden light exploding behind his eyes, like the sun had detonated in his brain. And Phil might just be a slightly odd person, but _pain_ still equaled _bad_ in his book. He didn't know where Chloe lurked and what was going to happen.

 

He still hadn't told Dan what had happened with Chloe in the park, mainly because he couldn't really find the words to describe what exactly had happened. He'd tried to form actual sentences in his brain, but somehow ' _Hey Dan, so this weird chick in stilettos gave me an awesome ability but it hurts and I'm scared'_ wasn't exactly the right phrasing.  And Dan had looked so relaxed and happy chilling on the couch, getting fully into the new show he'd picked out. So if the words had died on Phil's lips when Dan laughed at the TV, the joy so clear on his face, well, wasn't he just being a good friend, not disturbing him with his crazy and worrying story?

 

(Phil knew it was more than just friendship fueling his actions - but he left that can of worms well untouched in his thought process.)

 

"You're not getting out of this by spacing out."

 

Phil was shaken out of his thoughts and looked at Dan, who was still looking pretty miffed, standing in the middle of the hallway with his arm crossed. Phil tried desperately to come up with an excuse as to why he couldn't make the trip downtown, but really, there was no reason why Dan should do it instead of him. He really, really didn't want to go outside again so soon, but in lieu of an actual reasonable argument, he just mirrored Dan's stance and crossed his arms defiantly.

 

Dan quirked his eyebrow.

 

"Well, now it just looks like we're having a Mexican stand-off in invisible straightjackets."

 

They both tried to keep a straight face, but after a few seconds, they burst out laughing and dropped their arms.

 

" I actually feel kind of bad for you." Dan relented when he was done laughing. "I wouldn't feel right letting you drag about that stuff all alone. How about this, we'll go together. Like a quest, us against the world of London traffic."

 

A deep fondness spread through Phil's heart. There weren't many things that made Dan Howell leave the house a day after an intercontinental flight, and to be among his reasons, made Phil feel like butterflies were fluttering madly in his stomach. Dan wasn't one to share his affection for his friends openly, but just once in a while, he did something like this to show he did care.

 

"Just Dan and Phil, facing the world's hardships together as always, huh?" Phil said with a soft smile.

 

Dan looked a bit uncomfortable now, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

 

"Well, there's some things we _don't_ do together..." He said, biting his lip and looking at Phil with an almost nervous look.

 

Phil froze. What was he saying? Why was he looking like that?

 

"Oh yeah?" He asked hoarsely, failing miserably to sound casual.

 

His heart jumped in his throat when Dan moved forward, closing in... his eyes flickered down to Dan's lips, then up at his eyes again. He was only a step away now... were they going to..?

 

"Some hardships I save for your mom." Dan whispered, then stepped back with a cheeky grin.

 

"Oi!"

 

###

 

BBC headquarters was, by all accounts, only thirty minutes away by cab. Of course, reality wasn't always what Google Maps made it out to be, so the actual travel time was a bit more. Between a traffic jam on the A3, road works on Brixton Hill and the fact that the taxi had no air conditioning, the actual travel time was closer to -

 

"Eight months, three days and six hours." Dan groaned as he tried to unfold himself from the seat and keep the equipment from tumbling out into the road. "Why the fuck did I come along again?"

 

"Because you thought it would be cruel to let me do this alone?" Phil reminded him as he carefully extracted himself from the car, taking over some of the heavier things from Dan.

 

"Oh, right." Dan panted as they started up the stairs. "This is your fault. Remind me to kill you."

 

"Manage your own agenda." Phil tried to bite back, but the smile on his face undermined his comeback.

 

The entrance hall was blessedly cool compared to the warm summer weather outside, and they were even more grateful to see a familiar face waving them down, leading them through to a storage room.

 

"Good to see you, boys! Thanks for bringing all this stuff back."

 

"Hi, Dave! Thanks for - oh!" Phil let out a gasp as he nearly tripped on an unseen threshold.

 

"Whoa, careful there!" Dave laughed and he helped Phil to put everything safely on the ground.

 

"So, that's all done. Now, good to have you back!" Dave said and extended his hand. Phil shook it with a smile. But a small prickling of pain on his left arm made his smile falter. His breath stopped in his throat. That was a familiar sensation. He had a feeling what might have caused it...

 

"Good to be back! How are you?" Dan said as he shook hands as well. Dan and Dave were completely oblivious to what had just transpired.

 

"Oh, fine, fine. Only had the same run-in with that damn threshold as Phil here did. Smacked right into the door, I did. Got a nasty bruise too." Dave lifted his left arm, searching for the bruise.

 

There was no bruise.

 

Phil's stomach descended into his shoes. He had done that, he knew it. He'd felt a burning sensation on his own left arm, at the exact spot Dave's bruise would've been, judging by the way he was staring at the spot.

 

"Oh? That's strange, I swear I had a bruise here." Dave frowned as he twisted his arm left and right to check whether it might've been in another spot. He needn't have; Phil knew exactly where he'd felt it. And it was gone.

 

"Bruises heal fast, don't they?" Phil let out in a quasi-nonchalant tone.

 

"Yeah, but I still had it this morning..."

 

Phil's heart was hammering in his chest. What if he was exposed here? What if they found out? He trusted Dan, but what was to stop anyone else from blabbing this juicy story - let alone someone who worked for a national broadcasting company, like Dave?

 

Was that the price Chloe had mentioned? Was this going to leak and would the world turn to Phil Lester, magic healer, to heal the thousands and thousands of people who were dying or suffering?

 

The air felt too thick again and it came to him in short, shallow breaths. His head was swimming. How on Earth could he handle that? He was barely functioning as a reasonably successful YouTube personality; the media attention that got him was enough to handle. But now... No one else had this ability. He'd become the most famous person alive, the most sought-after medic on the planet, the lives of millions in his hands...

 

_I can't do this._

 

"Hey."

 

He couldn't burden Dan with this.

 

_Should I move out?_

 

"Phil. You okay?" Dan laid a hand on his shoulder.

 

"What?" Phil looked up, startled.

 

"You're spacing out again." Dan said. His tone may have sounded berating to anyone else, but Phil knew it was worry.

 

"Sorry. Just a bit dizzy. Jet lag." He muttered as he shook himself.

 

"Hey, if it heals as fast as my bruises, you'll be fine in no time!" Dave laughed and patted him on the back. "Now, I think you two need to get home and relax. Thanks for bringing everything!"

 

He hadn't become very suspicious then...

 

 _Thank God,_ Phil thought.

 

He wasn't ready for this news to leak. He tried to get his breathing under control as they made their way  back out of the storage area. His brain was just starting to catch up again, it felt like. He'd healed again, just by shaking someone's hand. He hadn't even seen the injury. At that rate, he would only have to shake a few hands before someone started talking and his secret would become widely known. Would he have to stop touching everyone? Friends, family, fans..? Was that the price he'd have to pay? He didn't want that, he couldn't imagine never touching anyone ever again. He'd become a complete outcast. But at the same time, he knew he couldn't handle it if his secret was discovered.

 

With a heavy sigh, he rubbed his forehead. What could he do to at least be able to touch people, to not automatically heal everyone he laid hands on?

 

His eyes widened as a golden thread drifted through the air, right in front of him. It seemed like it was propelled by wind, even though the air was still and seemed to grow thick again. The little thread blew by, towards a poster on the wall.

 

_Train_

 

was the only word he could read, highlighted in a gold so bright that the surroundings seemed dim and shadowy.

 

Phil blinked once, twice.

 

The gold and the shadows were gone, the air had gone back to normal. The poster on the wall turned out to be _How to train your dragon_. But Phil knew the message - _train_. He had to train himself to get control over his abilities. How was he going to train? And how had the gold reacted to the thoughts and questions running through his head? With a sinking feeling, he realized that he would probably see Chloe again in the not too distant future...

 

He looked sideways at Dan as they stepped out of the BBC building onto the busy London pavement to hail a cab back home. He hadn't noticed anything.

 

"Thanks for coming with me." Phil said softly.

 

"It's fine. God, I'm floored already. We should've both stayed home." Dan grumbled as the climbed into the taxi that pulled up next to them.

 

"Yeah, tell me about it. But still, it was unavoidable. At least now we can go home and chill for a week. Nothing else on our schedule, right?"

 

"Nothing. And whoever is going to dare to disrupt my free week, is going to suffer the consequences. I just want tv and food. No work, no fuss, not even anything to think about." Dan sighed as he closed his eyes.

 

Phil looked at Dan's face, the bags under his eyes. He knew it for certain now. He needed to keep Dan out of this. Dan needed to be carefree for a little bit, to recharge. The tour and the flight had been exhausting. But next to that, what was the point in worrying him with something he couldn't do anything about? Something that would only cause drama and headaches? Well, he supposed he could help with the literal headaches, but still... Dan couldn't know, because he'd carry the burden of keeping Phil's secret. A huge secret. Phil could never ask that of him. Dan didn't deserve that.

 

So when Phil's hand brushed the cabbie's hand when he paid him as they stopped in front of their house, he grit his teeth and tried to keep a poker face when a deep sneer of pain that screamed _ulcer_ shot through him. He forced himself to smile as soon as the pain subsided. He turned to Dan.

 

"How about I make us pancakes? I think we've deserved that."

 

Because Phil would do anything to keep seeing the happy smile that lit up Dan's face.

 

Anything.

 


	3. The damned Greeks

Chapter 3

 

Phil rubbed his stomach distractedly as he closed his eyes, the dishwasher he'd just loaded up happily gurgling behind him like a well-fed beast.

 

The taxi driver's ulcer was still echoing around in him. It had hurt for longer than Phil had expected; after the initial spike, a less intense, more manageable level of pain had hung around for about an hour. After that, his stomach just felt sore. The cuts on his arm hadn't left him with any residual pain, so he hadn't expected his stomach to hurt for as long as it did. Maybe it was because the cuts were relatively smaller injuries, Phil mused.

 

He'd have to start training. He would need to, if he didn't want to worry about randomly healing everyone he touched. Still, it scared the crap out of him. Would he need to injure himself in order to train, or would he have to do something else? Would Chloe tell him at some point, or would he have to do it by trial and error? Injuring himself seemed to be the safest option for now... Either way, he was definitely not looking forward to it. But it looked like he had no choice.

 

He opened the cutlery drawer a few inches, stopping when he saw the kitchen lights reflecting off the knives.

 

_This is insane._

 

Was he seriously thinking of doing this? His mouth was dry as a desert, a nausea unrelated to the taxi driver swirling in his gut. What on Earth had his life become...

 

The soft sound of knuckles rapping on glass interrupted his thoughts. He looked up. Dan was standing next to the glass kitchen door, leaning against it lightly.

 

"Penny for your thoughts?" He asked.

 

Phil shook his head to clear off the depressing thoughts and he couldn't help but smile as he looked at him. Dan's hair was a messy mop, his eyes warm as hot chocolate on a stormy autumn night. He felt his anxiety loosen its grip on him.

 

"You have a terrible case of hobbit hair." He grinned.

 

"Thanks..." Dan rolled his eyes and carded his fingers through his fringe - not making the situation any better.

 

"No problem. That'll be a penny."

 

Dan snorted and moved into the kitchen to give him a playful shove. Then he leaned against the counter next to him, his arm warm against Phil's.

 

"You okay though? You've been kinda... off. I can't really put my finger on it."

 

Phil met his worried sideways glance.

 

"I'll be fine. Backlash from the tour I guess." He lied easily. "And you look wiped out too."

 

"Guess I am... Come on, let's call it a night. We've been way too busy and we deserve a good night's sleep." Dan said resolutely, bumping a shoulder against Phil's to emphasize his point.

 

Phil pushed off the counter, squaring his shoulders. Dan was right. A good night's sleep was what he needed now.

 

He closed the cutlery drawer, leaving his fears and worries locked away with the knives. If Chloe wanted him to do something, she'd better get specific. Or at least show him _how_. In the meantime, Phil was going to enjoy some well-deserved rest.

 

###

 

Chloe didn't show up the next day.

 

Dan and he had both slept in well until noon and spent the afternoon just watching anime on the couch. It did Phil a world of good. He felt like he could look at the world with clear eyes again, not so stressed and scared like he had been.

 

As Dan loaded another episode, Phil's mind drifted back to his strange powers. He felt slightly sorry that he'd given up on training the other night, no matter how much he had needed his rest. There was a vague sense of urgency building in the back of his mind - and not a little guilt.

 

 _So many people hurting in the world, and I just want to sleep and watch anime_.

 

He felt disgusted with himself suddenly. Before he knew it, he was stalking out of the living room and down to the bathroom.

 

"Hey! Where you going?" Dan yelled from the living room.

 

"Bathroom!" He yelled back as he hurried down the stairs. He heard an annoyed grunt in response, but ignored it.

 

He took out another disposable razor and before he could let his mind catch up, he flicked it across his arm five times in short, even lines, spaced a few inches apart. He bit his lip as he watched the blood well up. He pondered how he should try to _not_ heal himself, settling on just thinking very hard about not healing.

 

He pressed his fingers over the first cut, thinking _don't heal, don't heal, don't heal_ with all his might. The tell-tale spike in the pain from multiple spots on his arm told him he'd not been successful. He took his hand away. He should've seen that coming; the other day when he'd healed Dave from the BBC, he'd had no contact with the wound and he'd still healed it.

 

Dismayed, he washed the blood off his arm and rinsed the razor. He inspected his clean arm.

 

 _Wait a second_.

 

The fifth cut, the one furthest from the one Phil had healed first, had not healed as the others. A thin red cut remained, completely untouched.

 

 _I can do this_. Phil thought, almost giddy with the realization.

 

That meant, if he trained properly, that he _would_ be able to touch people without instantly healing them. It was a weight off his shoulders; he couldn't imagine his life staying indoors, being extra careful not to bump into people - really, he was way too clumsy for that. And then it would be a matter of time before his secret was revealed and half the world would come knocking. If he worked hard, he might be able to stave that fate.

 

He wrapped the razor blade in some toilet paper and hid it behind one of the shampoo bottles - the one Dan hated the most, so that he wouldn't accidentally find it. He shouldn't risk using fresh blades every time; that would become suspicious fast.

 

Feeling lighter than he had in days, he sprinted back to the living room, taking the stairs two steps at a time.

 

He could do this.

 

###

 

 _Such a shame_.

 

She thought, seeing the two boys sleeping peacefully in their respective bedrooms of their London apartment.

 

Under any normal circumstances, it would have been easy. Standard procedure. Boy meets boy, they fall in love, have some good sex and are generally disgustingly happy together. They raise some kids, impact some lives, make a few required moves and the world is on a roll again. A numberless step in the great big plan. Nothing a lady of the Fates would need to concern herself with, other than making the thread per the laid out plans.

 

Unfortunately, her sister had been... well, the kind word was 'random'. The unkind, more realistic version was that she'd been scatterbrained, rebellious and forgetful. And she had derailed a whole sequence, the thread frayed and molting like a sick bird. Their parents had been furious, of course, and had enlisted the entire family to right the wrongs that happened as the dominos fell. The butterfly effect was a bitch.

 

It was testament to the groundwork laid for centuries that they hadn't completely fucked up yet. The two boys hadn't gotten together in 2009 as they were supposed to, but at least they'd still become friends that worked and lived together. But 2012 had come close to sending the whole operation down the drain. They'd had to do some serious repairs. And thankfully the Fates saved the boys from 2012.

 

Whether they would succeed to repair the complete thread, was still theoretical. By most of the laws they abided to, this plan was impossible and the outcome was set in stone. But her family had found a loophole. And if they had calculated everything correctly - she was sure they had; it had been a few decades since the initial fuck-up - then Phil Lester's upcoming part to play would be the last of it. Well, technically not exactly the last, but she had faith. The real question was whether the loophole would work, or they would miss their last chance.

 

In any case, Phil Lester was the key and she only had a short time to get him ready. If she could.

 

With a heavy sigh, she descended.

 

###

 

3:43 AM

 

A frayed golden thread lit up reddish as it drifted past the alarm clock. She landed softly.

 

Phil woke up slowly, stretching out like a cat and blinking to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. His eyes landed on her.

 

Just in time, she brought up her hand to make Phil's surprised yell die in his throat. It was probably a scare to him, but they couldn't risk waking up his roommate.

 

"Come." She said.

 

Phil tried to scramble away as she extended her hand, but he was trapped in his sheets and she was faster anyway. She grabbed him, and in a blink, they disappeared from London.

 

###

 

Phil's heart was in his throat and he wasn't sure whether he was able to talk again. He assessed his situation.

 

They were outside, the concrete of the car park wet with rain, the cold seeping into his bare feet. A huge building loomed in front of them. It was bloody cold in just his pajamas, the night's air chilling him to the bone as the wind gripped at the thin material of his shirt and pants. He crossed his arms and rubbed his arms in an attempt to get warm.

 

Chloe was next to him.

 

"I see you've started training."

 

Phil just looked at her. It was no use confirming or denying - she already knew.

 

"I thought I'd give you some practice. Welcome to Royal London Hospital. I've picked out some dummies for you."

 

"Dummies? Not real people?" Phil asked, confused. He'd expected some training, but what good would dummies be in healing?

 

"Oh, they're real people. They're just inconsequential." She said airily. "Just to get your abilities up to par before the real ones come."

 

Phil stared at her, gobsmacked.

 

"Inconsequential?" How could anyone speak so coarsely about human lives?

 

Chloe rolled her eyes.

 

"Humans are so emotional... Have you figured out who I am yet?"

 

Phil shook his head, keeping a keen eye on her.

 

"I'm one of the Fates. We direct the world by spinning the rich tapestry of life, the universe and everything. Humans are gold thread - my division. I suspect you've noticed some gold?" Phil nodded in answer to her question and she continued. "Some people think we're Greek, but we were around well before the Greeks even started writing. Stupid Greeks even gave me the name _Clotho_. Can you imagine? I much prefer Chloe."

 

She huffed derisively as she talked about the Greek writers. Then she shook her head, to get back on topic.

 

"The people who have no more role to play for Fate, are known as Dummies or Inconsequentials. In other words, it doesn't impact the greater good if something happens to them. If anything goes wrong, we can use them to the extent that they don't impact the future. They're excellent for experimenting."

 

"I'm not going to use people as guinea pigs." Phil said, his mouth dry. "This is horrible, what you're doing."

 

"Is it?" Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any idea how incredibly intricate this work is? Seven billion of you, impacting, interacting every single day, thousands of years. Everyone has their part to play. Some of them finish their part when they're a baby, others when they turn a hundred years old. And mind you, we don't kill anyone whose part has been played. They just sort of... go on free roaming mode and let nature take over."

 

"What about these people?" Phil indicated the hospital.

 

Instead of answering, Chloe took his arm and in a whirl of air, they were standing in a ward. On either side of the room were two beds. Phil saw a few old faces, but younger ones as well. All of their eyes were closed and the beeping of machinery indicated that these people were not doing well.

 

"Four dummies. I'll keep the nurses out and the noise down. Train on not healing them. Once you've practiced enough, you're free to do with them as you please. As my gratitude."

 

Phil could've pointed out that her 'gratitude' was nothing more than common human decency, but he refrained. She clearly wasn't human.

 

So he steeled himself for some painful training and set to work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, I've been really busy! Thank you so much to everyone who's left comments and kudos!! I absolutely love getting feedback and every message makes me smile!
> 
> So, some revelations in this chapter. Next chapter we'll check in with Dan...


	4. Pointless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update - six whole weeks! I've had a really lousy few months due to personal/family stuff but things are looking up. I'm especially happy to get back into writing. So very sorry for the long wait. But I'm getting back on the horse and eager to get into this story.

Chapter 4

 

"Again."

 

Phil looked up at her with bleary eyes. With the orange glow of daybreak illuminating her from behind, she almost looked soft and kind. Almost.

 

He was aching all over and he felt like he had been run over by a car. His back hurt abominably and his head was pounding. They'd been working for hours now, Phil trying his hardest _not_ to heal, Chloe pulling him back just in time, every time. He was on his third dummy now - no, _patient_ , he reminded himself sternly - having practiced on two others. He'd healed each patient as soon as Chloe deemed him done practicing and ready to move onto the next. Of course that also meant that he felt exactly what the patient was feeling, before it subsided to a more manageable level. And with these people in the hospital and not doing very great, that meant that Phil was not feeling like a million bucks right now.

 

"Isn't it kind of weird that you gave me a healing ability and now you're teaching me how not to use it?" He asked. He was stalling a bit, he knew, but this spot on the floor where he'd sagged down, was quite alright with him. The cool metal of the bed frame was soothing to his aching back.

 

She peered down at him, her grey eyes a little nonplussed, as if his question was a bit silly.

 

"Before you start, you must know how to stop. Else you would become an unstoppable force heading straight for an immovable object. It would not be well for you."

 

Phil nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess. Need to know how to land before I start flying, right?"

 

She blinked at him owlishly.

 

"You can't fly."

 

"No, I know, but... metaphorically."

 

"Right."

 

"Right."

 

Phil squirmed uncomfortably in the awkward silence that followed. She was still peering down at him, expression vaguely worried and exasperated, as if she'd chosen the world's dumbest student to mentor. He hated when people looked down on him. Even if they were all-powerful deities.

 

"You must continue now." She decided after a while. She cast a look over her shoulder, out of the window where the sun was creeping higher and higher above the horizon. "You must go back soon."

 

"Can you give me a sec? My back is really hurting. And my head."

 

"The back is due to your first dummy. Mrs. Rencolm. 74. Complicated spinal fracture when she fell down the stairs. The head is mr. Mencia, 59, your second dummy. Car accident, brain trauma. They would have died if you hadn't insisted on healing. And by now you understand what happens when you heal. You switch the trauma or the injuries to your own body and then use my gift to heal it."

 

"Why can't I heal people directly?" Phil asked.

 

"Why can't you fly?" Chloe shrugged nonchalantly. "I could bore you with the laws of nature and the laws of my work, but the bottom line is just that you can't. But it does show you, I hope, how careful you must be with this ability. You can not try to heal someone who is too close to death, or fated to die, because then you would pay with your own life."

 

His expression must've gone pale because Chloe smiled when she turned to look at him again.

 

"Not to worry. I am keeping a very close eye on you. I will warn you in time, even before you can put yourself in danger. We need you."

 

That did very little to alleviate Phil's worries. Instead, a vague feeling of dread settled over him.

 

"And what exactly do you need me for?" He asked, his mouth dry.

 

Chloe just smiled enigmatically.

 

"That won't matter if you don't train."

 

She pointed imperiously at the third patient.

 

"Again." She ordered.

 

Phil rose, despite his back and head throbbing angrily, and he set to work.

 

 

###

 

 

Dan Howell was never an early bird.

 

He always found it easier to stay awake until 6 AM than to rise at 6 AM. Whenever he did wake up early - for example when the neighbors decided that they'd get a head start on the day's drilling activities - he was always in a terrible mood. If he had the chance, he'd wrap himself tightly in his blanket and sink into sleep again, whilst congratulating himself for the umpteenth time on getting a job that allowed him to do that.

 

At first he didn't know what exactly woke him. Some sort of noise probably, but as he listened for a few more seconds, he heard nothing. He looked at the clock. It was well past nine, the sun probably up for a few hours already. Still, he didn't have to get up yet, so he wasn't going to.

 

Fully determined to wrap himself back into his cotton cocoon, he let out a tired and grumpy yawn and paid no more mind to what had woken him.

 

The peaceful silence lasted maybe a few minutes, but then a sound from the hallway reached his ears.

 

 _Phil_. Dan realized. It sounded like he was stumbling or something. Or at least moving slow and bumping into the wall a lot.

 

_Should I...?_

 

Dan didn't really want to get up; he was too comfortable in his bed. And besides, Phil was clumsy and doubly so when he was sleepy. He was probably just half asleep, fumbling along back to his bedroom from the loo or something and tripping over his own feet.

 

Dan was asleep before he could hear the bitten back groan from the other room.

 

###

 

_"In other news, the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel is the scene of a series of very fortunate events. Four people have been miraculously cured overnight, from injuries ranging from broken bones to a case of cirrhosis of the liver. Doctors are baffled and confirm that three of the four patients were in dire straits just the night before, with low life expectancies. Security tells us there is no video footage from any security camera around the premises of the hospital for hours on end. This makes it very likely that this healing streak is not just a coincidence, but rather part of a set up plan. Professor Collins is here to discuss the possibility of extraterrestrial-"_

 

Dan switched the television off. No matter how big the miracle, he doubted that aliens would come to London to cure four random people. Well, unless they were from Gallifrey, he reckoned. Time lords were notoriously fond of London. More likely it was just pure, senseless luck. But boy, didn't people love to involve a higher power when they were lucky. Made them feel like there was a purpose to everything, a higher plan. An illusion, Dan knew. Life was senseless and random, as cruel as it could be wonderful. But meaningless above all.

 

He shook his head, as though to rid himself of his dark thoughts.

 

 _No existential crisis for Dan today_. He decided.

 

He glanced at the clock. It was just past eleven. Usually Phil would be up by now, though Dan had yet to see him. His door had been closed all morning. Dan vaguely remembered hearing him stumble around early in the morning. Maybe his jet lag hadn't fully abated yet.

 

Now that he thought about it, Phil had been really off the past few days. His gut feeling told him that jet lag had very little to do with it, but he just couldn't put his finger on it.

 

He unfolded himself from the couch then, decision made. He could at least check on his best friend. He walked down the hall and knocked on Phil's door tentatively, waiting for a response.

 

Nothing.

 

He knocked again, a bit louder this time. "Phil?"

 

A half-hearted grunt acknowledged him and he opened the door. The sight of Phil made him stop in his tracks.

 

His skin was a pallid grey color, cheeks sunken in slightly beneath the bags under his eyes. His eyes - feverish and dull, not vibrant and gleaming as they always were. His hair was limp, falling weakly into his eyes. He looked properly sick.

 

"Jesus, what on Earth did you do?" Dan breathed. He was still in the door opening, hardly daring to come closer.

 

Phil looked like he wanted to say something, but no more than a grunt escaped him.

 

"Hey." Dan said, properly worried now. "What's going on?"

 

"Jus'... sick... is all." Phil grated.

 

"Yeah, no shit. Hang on, I'm going to call the doctor." Dan replied, already backtracking to get his phone.

 

"Dan... no."

 

It wasn't loud, but it was enough to halt him. Incredulously he turned to Phil.

 

"I'll... be fine." Phil grunted, already closing his eyes in fatigue.

 

"Yeah, 'cause you look healthy like a freaking Olympian right now." Dan sneered at him. Phil was always a lousy patient when he was sick.

 

To his surprise, Phil chuckled at his remark - well, only for a few seconds before he pressed a hand to his stomach and hissed in pain.

 

"Right. I'm calling the doctor."

 

"No." Phil ordered with clenched teeth. "Just... couple of hours, okay?"

 

Dan stared at him. Something weird was going on. He debated whether he should argue with Phil right now. On the one hand, it seemed like he really did need a doctor, but on the other hand, a nagging Dan was not going to help.

 

"Two hours." Dan relented. "Or I'm taking you to the magical hospital downtown."

 

Phil cracked open an eye and looked at him questioningly.

 

"Four people suddenly got better in the same hospital. All over the news." Dan explained in an airy tone, waving the story away with his hands as he was telling it.

 

"That's on the news?" Phil whispered, looking even more nauseated than before.

 

Dan laughed. "Talk about media priorities, huh? There was even a guy talking about extraterrestrials."

 

Phil's laugh seemed forced and hollow, but that was just because the poor guy wasn't feeling well. Dan was sure of it.

 

Dan sat down on the edge of the bed, holding his hand to Phil's forehead.

 

"You're really warm. Do you know what caused you to get so ill?" He asked, tone softer now.

 

Phil's blue eyes - the fire that was usually roaring behind them now only a dull smolder - connected with his own.

 

"It's really nice... that you're so worried."

 

It hit Dan then, how close they were, touching and staring into each other's eyes. His stomach was doing jumping jacks but he fought to appear calm and collected.

 

"Well, you're nice to worry about." He rambled quasi-jokingly.

 

 _What even was that sentence, Dan Howel??_ He screamed internally at himself.

 

Phil grinned at that and laid his hand on Dan's forearm, squeezing reassuringly.

 

"You're a good friend."

 

Dan's stomach switched from jumping jacks to the 100 meter vertical _splat_. A good friend. After all these years, after all the times they'd said the word, it still hit him in the face at unexpected moments. Friends. Just friends. How stupid of him that he'd sometimes forget that it was all that they were. All that they'd ever be.

 

Dan joked about his existential crisis a lot. Still, it was sometimes a relief to think about the lack of meaning in life. It reminded him that it was all pointless anyway. So if a dream was smashed, a path not followed, what harm was it? It was neither here nor there. That gave Dan a strange sense of peace. No, the worst part was believing that there was a reason for it all. Because nothing was worse than finding something to live for, and being unable to have that life.

 

He pulled back his hand and got up. He didn't want to be here any longer.

 

"Get some rest, okay?"

 

He didn't even wait for an answer, closing the door behind him and walking as far away as he could in their apartment.


	5. Of creases and crises

Chapter 5

 

Over the next week, Phil settled into a strange sort of routine. Chloe picked him up in the middle of the night, taking him to a hospital and they would set to work.

 

And he was getting better at controlling his gift. He felt it now, when his body was getting ready to heal. A sort of tension in his brain, the faintest tingling at his temples.

 

"Are you noticing this?" Chloe asked, holding her hand to the side of his head.

 

He nodded, picking up on the subtle sensation. He hadn't noticed it the days before - not quite surprising considering the multitude of thoughts racing across his brain. It was like that ever-present tone in your ears that you don't notice while there's noise all around.

 

"Good. Now lay your hands on the dummy."

 

"Woman." He corrected automatically.

 

Chloe rolled her eyes. Phil didn't care. This person in the hospital bed, she may be inconsequential to the Fates, but she wasn't to him. She was maybe in her fifties, her face thin and lined. Judging by the picture on the side table, of three kids with the same dark hair, smiling and waving, she was a mother. Not inconsequential at all.

 

He laid a hand on her arm and he felt Chloe's power hold back his own, as his body yearned to heal.

 

"Now, feel how it wants to move to your hand? Deny that instinct. Keep it up here." She explained.

 

Phil concentrated hard, as he felt the tingling in his head increase and the sensation of liquid gold trickling down his neck, past his shoulder to his arm... He willed it to retreat, locking his jaw in determination and ever so slowly, it did, creeping back up his arm. But after a few minutes, he felt it going down again and redoubled his efforts to stop it. He was panting with exertion soon and he knew he was fighting an uphill battle - or rather downhill. Eventually, he felt Chloe take over and he took his hand away from the woman.

 

"Good, you're getting better. You can take a break."

 

Phil flopped down in one of the chairs by the bed with a heavy sigh. He was on his second patient of the night and he was tired. Chloe had been exasperated with him, because he wanted to heal everyone he trained on. But he insisted and as Chloe had warned him, that meant he actually got less training. So they had decided not to heal anyone until after training was through for the night. Chloe had rather he didn't heal at all, if it wasn't in the Fates' interest. But if Phil could save a life, he would do it.

 

Chloe had taken out some golden thread and a spindle and started spinning the thread by hand. She'd done that every night so far. On the first night Phil had asked her what she was doing and she'd only distractedly replied she'd needed to catch up on some work. She tended to ignore him when she was working.

 

He looked over at the night stand again. Next to the picture were some cards. He picked one up to read - mainly because Chloe was horrible at small talk. Unreadable scribbles filled the inside of the card, though he could discern enough to see it wasn't English. It looked like Chinese or Japanese. He could've seen that coming, as the woman in the bed looked Asian. He picked another card. Strange characters again. Then his eye fell on a leaflet - more unreadable text.

 

He turned to Chloe. "Are we in Chinatown or something?"

 

"Chinese town." She replied distractedly. She was fiddling with her threads again, working out a tangle.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"We're about a hundred miles out of Beijing."

 

"Beijing?!" He asked, flabbergasted. "How on Earth are we in Beijing?"

 

"That's really what's surprised you most about all this?" She said dryly, using her spindle to indicate herself and the patient.

 

"But why? I thought we were in London!"

 

"Because you insist on healing. Your first night out made the news, that just makes it more of a hassle for me to keep my work under wraps. I've been taking you to hospitals where our work can go unnoticed. So far this week, I've taken you to Croatia, Algeria and Russia."

 

Phil nearly fell of his chair and his jaw dropped. "How did I not notice?"

 

Chloe shrugged and returned her attention to her threads. "Hospitals largely look alike. So do people."

 

"You mean I've been travelling the world at night - wait a second, it's not night in China now!"

 

He sat up, looking around. There were no windows in the room, so he had no indication of the time of day.

 

"It's afternoon here, yes. Though none of these know or care." She replied, waving at the patients in the room. "Enough chat. Let's get back to work."

 

Phil forced himself to close his mouth and shake off the revelations.

 

His life may just be a bit crazy right now... And he had a feeling this was just the start.

 

###

 

Dan fought with his sheets as he turned around once again. It was morning, but he didn't want to get out of bed. He'd been up half the night, drifting in and out of sleep and now he was tired as hell. His stupid brain had kept him up. He didn't like to worry. Especially during a week where he was supposed to be relaxing. Instead of happy empty-minded anime bliss, he'd been through waves of worry and relief.

 

Something was wrong with Phil.

 

It had happened every morning so far. He'd wake up and Phil would still be asleep. Only near noon he'd wake up and he'd be sick as a dog. Then throughout the day, he'd get better and happier and by evening he'd be completely fine - then the next day it was the exact same story. That wasn't normal.

 

He'd tried googling the symptoms, but all he could come up with was morning sickness. Dan doubted very much that Phil was pregnant. It wasn't as though badly written fanfiction had suddenly come to life. And if it had, he and Phil would probably be making out on the couch right now. As if pining for his best friend wasn't bad enough - there were thousands of people actually writing about them getting together and having the most amazing sex. He read some of it - hell, some nights he read a _lot_ of it. And afterwards he always felt a bit dirty and desperate. And lonely. Mostly lonely. Because everyone could see it happen, wanted it to happen... everyone but the one that mattered.

 

What hurt him the most is that Phil wasn't even really talking to him now. Not in the sense that they weren't speaking, because they still talked and ate together and watched series. No, Phil wasn't sharing. He'd asked him every day this week: _what's going on?_ And Phil had smiled, grateful for his worries, and told him he'd be fine later in the day. Like he knew exactly what was going on.

 

Maybe it was just the jet lag. True, they'd been back home for a week now and by all means any jet lag should've passed, but Phil probably was just a little under the weather, making it take longer.

 

He gave up on trying to get back to sleep - his brain was far too active now. He threw back the blankets and winced as his back popped. He stretched carefully, but his muscles were all one big knot. That always happened when he slept terribly a couple of days in a row.

 

As he left his bedroom, he shot a glance at Phil's bedroom door - which was closed. He fought the urge to pop in and take a look. Phil could really use his sleep. And secretly, he wasn't prepared to see his friend sick again and have all that worry crash over him once more.

 

Phil knew that he'd feel better later in the day. And he didn't seem surprised or worried that he felt like shit every morning. So he knew more than Dan did. He refused to let Dan call a doctor. What if he did know what was going on? Then why wasn't he sharing it with him? It seemed like Phil had accepted some sort of fate.

 

A jolt of terror shot through him as his brain processed that thought.

 

Maybe because the truth would hurt Dan. Maybe something was _really_ wrong and Phil didn't want him to worry. Maybe he didn't need to call a doctor because he already knew what was going on.

 

His feet stopped working in the middle of the hallway.

 

What if it was cancer? Didn't people go through treatments that made them feel really sick? His breath stopped in his throat, anxiety and fear washing over him, knocking him off balance like a tidal wave. Was that what Phil wasn't telling him? Is that why he didn't need to call a doctor?

 

His head was swimming and he put a hand up on the wall to steady himself.

 

 _No_. He told himself sternly. _Stop being ridiculous._

 

If it was cancer treatment that was making him so ill, Dan doubted Phil would be feeling a-okay just a few hours later. And then going through it all again the next day. That was not how that worked and Dan doubted very much Phil could hide something that big from him - or _would_ hide it.

 

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and continued down to the bathroom. He'd talk to Phil later - really talk.

 

###

 

When he'd woken up, Phil had felt like crap again. Of course it hadn't taken him aback much. He'd saved a couple of terminally ill patients again last night and that was worth all the aches and pains in the world. He knew it would clear off in a couple of hours. He wished aspirin worked against this sort of pain, but it seemed like a fair trade in order to heal actual human beings.

 

No, what bothered him most was Dan. He had been on his case every day so far and Phil was quickly running out of things to tell him. He seriously debated whether he should tell Dan. His plan to keep Dan in the dark in order to let him enjoy his week off, had backfired big time. Instead the brunette shot him worried glances every two seconds. It was really getting annoying. At first Phil hadn't wanted to tell Dan because he didn't have his powers under control - he hardly knew what he was doing. But after a few nights, he actually got a little better. But he still didn't want to tell Dan.

 

What held Phil back was the enormity of it all. And the big, black question mark that danced across his brain. Chloe had said there'd be a price to pay. He doubted that his nightly training and the couple of hours of feeling like a truck had hit him, was really the price she meant. Because feeling lousy cleared right up after a few hours - and that was only after he fully healed someone, which Chloe didn't even want him to do. And Chloe had such disregard for dying people that Phil didn't believe that she even thought about his temporary pain - well, unless it hindered his training.

 

She was training him for something and he'd pay a price. She'd been very tight-lipped about both those things. So no, he didn't want Dan in on that. Chloe's callous talk of dummies and inconsequentials, her ruthlessness and inhumanity, he wanted that as far away from Dan as possible.

 

###

 

Phil was humming tunelessly as he wandered into the living room, cradling a mug of hot chocolate. The sun had set a few hours ago, the streets quiet. Dan was in his browsing position, molded well into his sofa crease.

 

He looked up from his laptop when Phil sagged into the chair with a contented hum.

 

"You seem better." He observed.

 

"I feel better. Told you I would." Phil shrugged nonchalantly.

 

Dan was quiet for a few seconds, then said slowly but carefully. "This doesn't add up, Phil."

 

Phil forced himself to sip his chocolate to seem calm on the outside, though internally his stomach was twisting with unease. He'd seen it coming.

 

"What doesn't?"

 

"You, feeling sick then feeling fine every day." Dan wasn't meeting his eyes, instead speaking to his laptop.

 

"Don't worry about it. It's probably still from the jet lag." Phil lied, hoping his voice was even.

 

Dan snapped his eyes up to meet him. "Jet lags don't take this long."

 

"How do you know I haven't travelled to China last night?" Phil quipped easily, taking another sip of his chocolate because his mouth had gone dry as a desert.

 

Dan ignored the joke. He was biting his lip now, looking antsy and worried.

 

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" He said in a small voice.

 

That felt like someone had punched Phil in the stomach. Dan was worried he didn't trust him. Hurt. It broke Phil's heart in two, to see him so insecure. He moved from his chair without a second thought and sat down on the coffee table in front of Dan.

 

"Hey." He said softly.

 

"Hey." Dan replied, a wan smile on his face.

 

"You shouldn't worry about me. You don't need to. I promise I'm fine. The last thing I want is for you to lose sleep over this."

 

Dan rolled his eyes. "Too late for that." He muttered.

 

That made Phil feel even worse. He never wanted that to happen. He wished that he could tell him more, tell him everything.

 

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

 

There was a silence between them as Dan smiled softly at him. It seemed to stretch on as Phil smiled back.

 

Eventually Dan broke eye contact, his cheeks a bit red.

 

"Well, I'd better try and get some actual sleep." He said as he closed his laptop. But as he moved to get out of his sofa crease, he winced.

 

"Urgh..."

 

"What's wrong?" Phil asked immediately.

 

"I think I slept wrong, my back's really hurting." Dan groaned as he struggled to get up.

 

"Are you sure that's not just the revenge of the sofa crease?" Phil joked.

 

Dan glared at him as he was wrestling himself up. Phil stood up and offered his hand. He felt the familiar tingle again, already at the back of his neck, ready to relieve Dan from his aches in an instant. He forced it down. _No_. He told the tingle sternly. _Dan has enough on his plate_.

 

Dan looked at him, then took the proffered hand and eased himself off the couch. He looked like his back was really hurting and the tingle teamed up with Phil's heart and urged Phil to take care of Dan. Instead, he let go as soon as Dan was vertical.

 

He missed the warmth of that hand immediately and when Dan shot him a smile of gratitude, one that made his heart jump a little, he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

 

"I can give you a massage."

 

Dan froze at that.

 

"Just... err... work out some of the kinks." Phil mumbled, looking anywhere but Dan.

 

After a few heartbeats, Dan's voice sounded small but even. "Yeah, alright."

 

His stomach was doing that stupid swooping thing again - _what have I got myself into now_? His rational mind yelled at him, listing the reasons why this was a bad idea - though Phil knew it was the only thing he could do to actually help Dan with his problem. And he'd _accepted_.

 

The walk to Dan's bedroom was awkward and surreal at the same time. Phil's heart was hammering in his chest - and it went into overdrive when Dan stood by his bed, turned to him, and asked in a shy voice:

 

"How do you want me?"

 

Phil swallowed, hoping his face wasn't too red and his voice would hold up.

 

"Err... on your front. Shirt off. If- if that's okay."

 

"Okay." Dan sounded as awkward as Phil felt - but Dan obliged him.

 

Phil repressed the tingling in his head again, the gold that threatened to seep down his neck, his arms, his fingers and soothe Dan's aches. Because no matter how much he wanted Dan to feel good, he wanted to protect him even more. If Dan found out, he'd get sucked up into the craziness that was Phil's life right now, with so much uncertainty and possibly danger around him.

 

As he looked down on Dan, half-naked and vulnerable on his bed, completely trusting Phil to take care of him, something clicked. He felt a surge of protectiveness and the gold behaved, like he'd enclosed it in a cage. Instinctively, he knew it wouldn't get out without his permission. A surge of victorious happiness spread through him - he'd gotten control.

 

Feeling confident, he let his hands rest softly on Dan's shoulder blades and began running them up and down slowly to warm up the muscles. He was rewarded with a soft hum, that meant Dan was okay with this. It made him grin. He was doing this, he was massaging Dan... and his powers were locked away safely.

 

When he deemed the muscles as relaxed as he could get them, he started kneading Dan's shoulders, slowly working out the kinks.

 

"Hmm... You're really good at that." Dan murmured happily. A big smile spread across Phil's face, but he didn't reply.

 

He slid his hands lower, working along the spine by rubbing his thumbs in small circles. The skin was warm beneath him, the muscles getting more and more pliant as the minutes slipped by. Phil had never enjoyed doing something so thoroughly. Every little hum - or even a little moan when he worked out a knot - sent shivers down his spine.

 

He didn't know how long he was doing this. It might've only been a minute - it might have been forever. He could do this forever, he felt like. And Dan wasn't complaining in the slightest - he had completely given himself over to Phil, as he relaxed more and more under his hands.

 

Eventually, Dan was as relaxed as Phil could possibly get him, all knots and kinks worked out, the muscles warm and pliant... and Dan looked the most relaxed Phil had seen him in years.

 

 _I should really stop now._ Phil thought to himself. He didn't want to - he didn't ever want to stop touching Dan. But he had his other secret to protect too, the secret that he was in love with him. And now that he was done massaging, well, he was basically groping. Friends didn't grope. Roommates didn't grope. He was over the line.

 

As that realization crashed down his brain, he took his hands away quickly. Dan cracked open an eye.

 

"Why'd you stop?" He murmured with a low voice.

 

Shit, that tone shot right down his spine. He stepped away quickly, getting some distance.

 

"I'm done." He said quickly. Gods, he hoped he hadn't sounded to brusque right then. Awkwardly he moved away from the bed towards the door.

 

"Phil?" Dan said when he was nearly out of the door. "Thank you."

 

Dan sounded a bit let down. Phil paused in the doorway with an uneasy grin.

 

"Sleep well." He managed. And as he closed the door behind him, he released a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, thanks for the comments and kudos so far! I love getting feedback so please leave a comment if you liked it :)


	6. Separation

Chapter 6

 

Consciousness came to Dan slowly. His mind drifted ever so gently from the deepest recesses of sleep, a flutter of an already forgotten dream escaping his grasp and going back into the black abyss.

 

He felt more rested than he had been in the past few months. His muscles were relaxed and heavy with sleep, warm and comfortable beneath his duvet. A smile played around his lips as he recalled _why_ he'd slept so well. Phil had given him a massage. Phil. Massaging him. Go figure. And he'd done a pretty damn good job, if Dan was honest. He let his mind drift back to the previous night. Phil's hands, soft and strong, roaming over his back. Dan hadn't thought he'd be able to give himself over to the situation. He could've been so nervous that he'd only tense up more. He hadn't. In a way, this proved how close they were, how much Dan trusted him.

 

 _How much I love him_...

 

He pushed that thought aside as soon as it flitted across his brain. No. He felt way too happy right now to dwell on the subject of unreciprocated love. He'd carried that burden for years and recently the worry and stress of Phil's mysterious behavior and intermittent sickness, had given Dan enough to wallow in. Well, not this morning. He chose to focus on that massage, the memories it gave him and the effect on his body. He felt relaxed and happy and he fully intended to enjoy it while it lasted.

 

Faint sounds from the kitchen reached him, alerting him that his best friend was awake. He heard the cupboard opening and closing, the soft clink of a mug and then the louder whirr of the coffee machine. When it was done, he heard the sound of Phil humming tunelessly as he puttered around the kitchen.

 

Dan pressed his face into the pillow, unable to suppress his grin. Phil wasn't sick this morning. After so many days, he wasn't sick. He was out of bed, happy and humming. Maybe last night had done them both a lot of good... Gods, what a relief to have him up and about.

 

Dan suddenly couldn't wait to see him and he was out of bed before his mind had fully realized his wish. In just a few short steps, he was out of his bedroom. Another few steps and reached the kitchen - and Phil.

 

Phil was still humming as he assembled his breakfast, going from fridge to cupboards to the cutlery drawer, like he was performing a well-practiced dance in his garishly colored pajama pants and a shirt that clashed horribly with it. Dan just looked at him for a bit. The black hair was messy and a bit rumpled from sleep. Phil always called it bed-head. Dan had mentally dubbed it sex-hair. It was so freaking domestic that his heart swelled up, ballooning in his chest. This was how it was supposed to be. Them, together and domestic. Dan had no idea when the word domestic had come to represent his greatest romantic ambition - maybe it was Phil's influence on him. It usually was.

 

Phil noticed him then, stopping in his tracks and his blue eyes going wide. He nearly dropped the box of cereal he was holding and he fumbled to set it on the counter. It was strange how he was still clumsy old Phil, when last night his hands had been so deft and warm, so sure on his skin...

 

In an impulse, Dan moved towards him and before he could question himself, he wrapped his arms around Phil. Gods, but he was warm. He smelled like coffee and home and that unnamed scent that was only him... Dan never wanted to let go.

 

"Um... hi." Phil chuckled nervously. His arms came up to pat Dan's back awkwardly, his body rigid from surprise. "Are you feeling better then?"

 

"Yes." Dan hummed into his shoulder. "And you're not sick."

 

"I'm fine." The message was reassuring, but Phil's voice was tight.

 

Dan hugged him tighter then, wanting to be as close as possible, breathing him in... but Phil pulled back, extracting himself from Dan and taking a few steps back.

 

"I uh... I'm gonna... go shower." He refused to meet Dan's eyes as he moved around Dan's stunned form and left the kitchen.

 

And he was gone.

 

Dan stood stiff as a plank in the middle of the kitchen, his mind sluggishly processing the encounter they'd just had. Cold seeped into his skin and he realized that he was still shirtless. Phil had been so nice and warm that Dan hadn't noticed earlier... but Phil had definitely noticed. Phil had noticed Dan staring at him with a loopy smile and no shirt on, only to have Dan wrap around him and not letting go, like an octopus with boundary issues.

 

With a start, he realized Phil's coffee and cereal were still on the counter. His heart sank into stomach. Downstairs, the shower started running. Phil had freaked out. The coffee would be cold. The cereal would be mushy. And Dan would still be alone.

 

He felt like the biggest fool ever.

 

###

 

He hung his head as the scalding water ran over his hair, down his back where his skin was sure to turn red from the heat.

 

That had been close. Closer than Phil had liked.

 

Dan had come into the kitchen and looked at him like he'd been the only thing in the world, like he'd seen the best image he could've seen. And not only had Dan stared like that, oh no. Of course he had to be shirtless. With ruffled hair and deep brown eyes soft from sleep. It had hit Phil's heart like a freight train and took the breath from his lungs. It had been seven years... and his body still responded like it was the first day he saw him in real life, that day in Manchester at the train station.

 

And his body had _really_ responded when Dan had hugged him. Because he was freaking half naked and right up against him, so warm and close. His breath had ghosted over Phil's neck, causing goose bumps, all the way down to his toes, it felt like. Then his voice... Phil had actually noticed tremors going down his spine when he spoke. Well, right down to his groin actually. Stupid sexy half-awake voice mumbling into his neck from stupid sexy half-naked Dan... He'd realized then that he had about three seconds before his body would start to react in a much more noticeable way. Phil had all but shoved him away when he felt the tension and heat down in his belly.

 

He felt guilty about ending the hug so abruptly and hurrying out of the kitchen, because Dan didn't know why. But it was better if he didn't know, or else the situation would've been a _lot_ harder to explain. He couldn't imagine that conversation going very well... _hey Dan, I really like naked hugs with you so don't be alarmed by this boner I just popped. In fact, would you mind if we were naked together?_

 

Yeah, right.

 

He very much doubted that would be well-received. More likely, he would have to start packing while Dan browsed online for a new but completely straight roommate. Not that Phil believed that any man would not get _at least_ very bi-curious once they started living with Dan. Like spaghetti in a pot of boiling water, it would not remain straight for very long. Phil himself had been way past _al dente_ when they moved in together and now he was just a mushy squishy messy remainder of - wait, was he comparing himself to pasta? Well, not the weirdest thing he'd compared himself to. And if his analogy was correct, then Dan indeed the boiling water. Because he was so damn hot, with that gorgeous mouth and those eyes -

_Oh no, not again._

 

Phil looked down his body and saw that his random train of thought had a rather unsurprising effect on him. With a sigh, he adjusted the shower until the water was as cold as the coffee he'd left behind.

 

###

 

They didn't speak about it.

 

Phil, for one, was quite keen to keep it that way. It was awkward enough already without spelling it out. They'd both dressed in long-sleeved jumpers and huddled up on opposite ends of the couch while they watched some anime, as if they'd silently made a pact to avoid any skin contact.

 

Dan turned in early that night, still absent-minded and withdrawn. Phil felt like shit about the whole day, but he didn't know what he could do about it. He was lost in thought, not really seeing the random channel he'd selected on the telly.

 

"Ready for some distraction?"

 

Phil nearly dropped his drink when Chloe appeared in the living room.

 

"Don't do that!" He hissed as quietly as he could. "Dan might still be awake!"

 

"He's not. I just checked on him. He's sleeping like a baby. Far earlier than usual, too, so if today goes well, you can have an early night as well."

 

She said it matter-of-factly, as if it wasn't completely disturbing to secretly appear in someone's bedroom to watch them sleep. And then plan a late night get-away with their roommate.

 

Phil gave her the evil eye, but knew that further discussion was pointless. She'd most likely just take out her dumb spindle thing and start spinning thread while he tried to convey some basic human decency. So he just looked at her. She was wearing a light colored dress again, as if they hadn't turned down the heat for the night. It might as well have been summer, going by her dress sense. The gold bracelet shimmered prettily as ever. But Phil knew it wasn't just a pretty bracelet. No, it represented her power. It told him that he was way out of his element and that she was setting the terms here.

 

When she reached out her hand, Phil sighed, put down his drink and allowed himself to disappear alongside her from his flat.

 

###

 

"So, where's this then?" He asked when a new room came into focus.

 

"Skagen, Denmark."

 

"Oh. Sweet. I've never been there." He remarked as he looked around the hospital room. There were windows this time, letting fading rays of orange sunlight filter through thin white curtains. In the room were a few beds, but only one bed contained a sleeping occupant.

 

"But you have to know, I have gotten control of my power now, it's not just leaking out everywhere. It's like it's locked away, not working unless I let it."

 

"Yes, you gained some control and I gave you a night off for it." Chloe answered, her eyes as cool as ever. "But by no means have you gotten the control you need. So we're starting the next step."

 

At Phil's downcast look, she raised an eyebrow.

 

"Have you really not been thinking it through?" Chloe chastised. "We're not there yet. If you hadn't noticed, when you heal, you heal the whole body. You're going to learn to focus on a single injury or illness."

 

"What's the point in that?" Phil frowned. Wasn't it great that he could heal completely?

 

"The point is the same reason we're here in Denmark now. _Cover_." She moved to the bed nearest them, pointing to the banged-up man laying there. "Mr. Rasmussen, 31. Car accident. Broken ribs, broken clavicle, head trauma. The broken bones will heal on their own, but the head trauma is going to kill him in a couple of days. Head trauma is medically difficult to understand for humans. If it heals and the doctors don't know why, it's put down to luck. If it doesn't... well, that's bad luck. Perfect for our work."

 

"I still don't see how healing one injury supposed to give us cover."

 

"Because it's the most inconspicuous way to save a life. Let's say you saw Mr. Rasmussen's car accident happen in the street. He is in bad shape, cuts and broken bones and blood everywhere. You want to save his life. But you also don't want Mr. Rasmussen standing up and walking away perfectly unharmed. There's still blood everywhere. He'd have to have some injuries to show for it. Or else people will start to hail you like a savior. If you can only heal the brain injury and not all the cuts and bruises, no one would be the wiser. And you would still save his life."

 

Phil glanced at the man in the bed and bit his lip as he pondered that for a second. It made sense, now that he thought about it.

 

"Can't I heal partially? Like, heal an injury a little bit? Wouldn't that also create cover while saving a life?"

 

Chloe shook her head, her blonde hair swaying along.

 

"No. I've explained before, the way it works is that you transfer the injury in itself to your own body and _then_ heal it. You can't do halves."

 

"His head it is, then." He said softly as he moved to stand by the bed. "But how?"

 

Chloe stood behind him. She laid a hand on the back of his head and then another on the side of his head.

 

"My left hand, that is where you feel your power starting, correct?" At his nod, she continued. "My right hand is where his injury is. I need you to visualize the injury. You need to focus on it, single-minded on this injury, willing only that injury to transfer. Let's practice your focus and visualization first. Start to focus on my hand on the side of your head."

 

It was a good thing that there was only one patient in the room, Phil thought. Because this probably wasn't going to be as easy as Chloe just made it sound. He closed his eyes and focused on the cold inhuman hand.

 

###

 

Dan had gone to bed earlier than usual, wishing his cringe worthy day to end as soon as possible. Of course that meant that his body was way off schedule now and his brain - well, frankly he thought it was just trolling him.

 

It was in the wee hours of the night that his brain decided it must be a good time to wake up and think about the embarrassing day he'd had. Drooling over Phil and then hugging him while he was shirtless... could he be any more of a thirsty hoe? Phil had clearly _not_ been keen on that particular event, bolting out of the room and leaving his morning coffee behind. Dan wished the ground would just swallow him up.

 

He looked over at his alarm clock. It was 2 AM now. And his mind - and any other body part involved in cringing and guilt tripping - was wide awake.

 

 _Might as well have some hot chocolate_. He thought. Whether it was to soothe his injured pride and self esteem or because he might sleep better after a warm drink, Dan didn't know. It didn't really matter.

 

He threw his covers back and stretched. His back was luckily still feeling pretty great. At least there was some upside to this whole debacle. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he exited his bedroom, only to stop right in his tracks.

 

Phil was standing in the hallway.

 

But he wasn't alone.

 

A pretty blonde girl was standing close to him, a hand on the side of his head while she talked in a soft voice to him, Phil listening intently. She stopped and withdrew her hand when Phil noticed Dan.

 

Phil looked at him like he was a deer in the headlights. He took a step backwards, but the narrow hallway didn't allow him much room for escape.

 

"Dan..." Phil managed to say in a strangled voice.

 

Dan hardly heard him. He felt like there was a gaping hole in his chest, his heart gouged out by that nameless blonde girl in _their_ flat. He was numb, his brain spinning so fast that he didn't even know what he could or should think. Only one question was bubbling to the surface.

 

"What the fuck is going on here?"

 

 


	7. Collision

Chapter 7

 

Mr. Rasmussen's head had become Phil's least favorite subject. It felt like he was getting nowhere, even after hours of trying to visualize the injury. He didn't know what a brain injury was supposed to look like and the only image that kept popping into his head was the brain x-ray made out of cardboard, which he'd used for one of his videos. Not very helpful at all. His mind kept going back to other things as well. Dan, their encounter in the kitchen, a new video he should upload, Dan, the tour they should continue to plan, Dan, Dan and oh, did he mention Dan?

 

Chloe was running out of patience as well, he could tell. She was in the corner of the room, one eye on the thread she was spinning and one eye on him. He wondered if she could see inside his mind - he'd be in real trouble then.

 

As if she'd heard that, she laid her spindle to the side. With a sigh, she shook her head and stood up.

 

"Your head is not in the game. And we don't have more time tonight. I was really hoping you'd be further along now."

 

Phil stretched his back and looked over his shoulder.

 

"I just don't get what I'm supposed to be seeing. It's still early, I can keep trying?"

 

She shook her head. "No. You have to be back soon. We'll try again tomorrow."

 

Phil hung his head. This was the first night he'd made absolutely no progress and he was a little angry with himself. If only he'd had a brilliant mind like Dan, or the ability to visualize like PJ... He looked at Mr. Rasmussen in the bed, still oblivious to his two very special visitors.

 

"Can I at least heal him?" He asked, studying the man's young face.

 

"No, leave him. This hospital will definitely make a ruckus in the press if you do a full healing. Broken bones don't heal overnight, remember? He was only useful for the brain injury. I'll find another one. Maybe we should've started with something easier." Chloe pondered, then moved towards him. "Come on, let's go."

 

Phil took a step back, bumping into the metal frame of the bed.

 

"But he'll die."

 

"I'm not having this argument with you. He has fulfilled his role for Fate."

 

"Maybe he hasn't fulfilled his _life_ yet! Look, can't you just help me? Maybe that'll help me finally get what you're trying to teach me." Phil pleaded.

 

Chloe halted. Phil felt a little tendril of hope creeping in his veins - he knew he should've turned his question to his training. That was the only thing that woman was interested in, anyway. Much more than actual human lives.

 

"Fine." She said curtly.

 

She grabbed his right hand and placed it over the bandages at the side of Mr. Rasmussen's head. He felt her power surging through his hand and in his mind, an abstract image of the injury began to form. It was as though his hand was feeling out the contours, like the bandages were covered in Braille and he could understand what was beneath...

 

"You've got it." Chloe murmured, somewhere way too close to him. He did have it - his target was locked and he unleashed his power. Not a second later, he knew he'd been successful because it felt like something had punctured his own brain. A hot, sharp pain made him drop to his knees, sounds of agony escaped him.

 

After the initial spike, as always, the pain wasn't as excruciating anymore, though a hefty headache remained. With a grunt, Phil managed to pull himself to his feet.

 

"Now we can go." He panted.

 

###

 

They landed softly in the hallway of his apartment, Phil wobbling slightly when his feet touched the carpet.

 

A hand on his shoulder steadied him.

 

"Your persistence on healing people might just kill you one day." She said in a low voice.

 

Phil looked at her. "I only healed one person today - I did more on my previous trainings."

 

She shrugged. "Sure. But every injury and person is different. This was a rather fresh brain injury. Fresh ones tend to sting more."

 

She brought her free hand up to the side of Phil's head.  She continued in a whisper. "You saw it, didn't you? You got the visual image of the injury. Next time you will know what you're looking for. It also -"

 

A door opened with a creaking sound. Chloe broke off her sentence and withdrew her hand when Phil looked towards the door.

 

His stomach sank into the carpet below him. He stepped back, trying to get as far away from Chloe as possible, but the wall against his back told him escape was impossible.

 

"Dan..."

 

The look on Dan's face speared right through his heart. There was confusion, hurt, anger and a bit of sadness. But mostly anger.

 

"What the fuck is going on here?"

 

Phil felt his throat close up. He didn't want Dan to know who Chloe was and why she was here. He'd tried so hard to keep that from him, that uncertainty and danger. And now here they were, smack-bang in the middle of their hallway in the middle of the night.

  
He didn't know what to say, his mouth open but no sound coming out.

 

"Oh, you must be his roommate!" Chloe chirped happily. "He told me about you!"

 

 _What the..._ what on earth was she playing at? She sounded like an innocent young woman, not a callous demi-goddess.

 

"He told me nothing about you." Dan's response was steely and cold.

 

"Well, we only just met! I nearly tripped on the sidewalk, and there he was! So we decided to have a drink and just lost track of time! Sorry if we woke you!"

 

Phil looked at Chloe incredulously. Was this part of keeping their work under cover? He'd expected her to be completely all business, no shred of humanity. But this performance? She seemed like a sweet, pretty girl - a girl he could even like. His eyes shot to Dan, who seemed torn between confusion and anger. Their eyes met and Dan raised an eyebrow as if to say _oh really?_

 

"Errrm eh, yeah! Just met! Coincidence, total coincidence!" He laughed nervously.

 

"Right." Dan was pissed, Phil could hear it in his voice. "Well, don't let me keep you from your impromptu date."

 

"Oh no, no, I need to go anyway. I have a spin class in the morning." Chloe smiled brightly. "Besides, we'll see each other tomorrow, right Phil?"

 

"Right..." He chuckled nervously. He wished the ground would swallow him up. He needed her gone, so he could talk to Dan. He didn't know what he would say, but he needed to sort this out.

 

"Come on, I'll see you out." He mumbled, putting a hand on her shoulder to steer her towards the stairs. Her skin was cold, a sharp contrast to the warm smile she sent Dan as she waved goodbye.

 

Halfway down the stairs, he heard Dan's bedroom door close a bit harder than usual. He was definitely pissed, then...

 

"What the hell was that about?" He hissed.

 

She turned around to face him. Her innocent, cheery smile was gone and her eyes were cold as usual.

 

"You haven't told him. Because you love him. And because you are afraid. Am I right?"

 

That terrified him. He'd kept Dan out of this because he didn't want Chloe to get to him - whatever the hell her plan was. But maybe that was much too naive. This girl embodied one of the fates, of course she knew as much as she did. If she knew Phil and knew what was on his mind and in his heart... well, Dan was pretty much constantly in both.

 

"Am I wrong?" He whispered tremulously.

 

That made her smirk. "To love him? No. To be afraid?" She pondered that for a second. "I guess it depends on your perspective. Get some rest and get some training tomorrow. Your first real job is coming up quick."

 

And with that, she vanished, leaving Phil behind on the stairs.

 

He sagged down on one of the steps. His head was pounding, partly due to the healing he'd done and partly due to what had transpired. He groaned as he let his head rest on his hands. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

 

###

 

If Dan kept his eyes closed, he could almost believe this whole situation was just a nightmare. His best friend and secret love of his life had brought a girl home. A pretty girl. In the middle of the night. If he hadn't woken up, he'd never even have known. His head was spinning. Phil wasn't the type of person to do this. Doubt crept into his thoughts. Was he?

 

Had this happened before?

 

He didn't know where he stood with Phil. For years, it had been so easy and clear. Phil was so... uncomplicated. Pure, in a way. He liked to think he could read Phil like an open book, but now he wasn't so sure anymore. It had all changed after the tour. Something very strange was going on and he didn't have the slightest clue.

 

He rubbed his eyes with balled fists as he forced himself to think back over the past weeks, to see if there had been something he'd missed. Some pattern he wasn't seeing. Anything Phil had said, he tried to recall. But all he recalled were the countless questions he'd asked him.

 

In a rush of anger, he grabbed one of his pillows and threw it across the room. Phil had been so damn tight-lipped, even after Dan asked him, again and again, what was going on. Even after Dan asked him to trust him and open up. Dan, his best damn friend for seven years. And Phil had just brushed him off and said it would all be okay. Well, it fucking wasn't! Because to top it off, he meets blondie and they talk for hours? Yeah, great! As if it wasn't bad enough that the guy he fell in love with suddenly found a girl, but no, they talked for hours and he brought her home right after they met? That was just a kick in the teeth. From a steel-toed boot tied to a wrecking ball.

 

He wrapped his blankets tighter around him. He didn't feel like leaving his bedroom today.

 

###

 

Hours later, his plan to stay - quite literally - undercover was thwarted by his bladder. He shot a dark look at his belly, but got up anyway. He just hoped Phil had gotten the message and wouldn't try to intercept him.

 

Lady Luck proved to be a bitch however, because Dan hadn't set three steps outside of his bedroom before Phil's bedroom door opened.

 

"Dan?"

 

Great, Phil had arisen. Dan ignored him, even when Phil called out to him again, and stalked towards the bathroom.

 

When he returned, Phil's bedroom door was closed. He breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like he'd gotten the message. He wondered why this relief felt so raw and painful. Maybe because Phil had given up so easily? He went into his own bedroom.

 

"Dan."

 

Okay. Phil hadn't given up easily. He'd waited for Dan on his bed.

 

"Dan, I don't want you to be mad. Can we talk about what's bothering you?" Phil pleaded.

 

"Oh, now you want to talk?" Dan sneered at him.

 

"Look, I know I shouldn't have brought her here like that, it's your house too..."

 

Phil clearly looked uneasy, but Dan was unforgiving. "Is that what you want to talk about? You think that's what's bothering me?"

 

Phil's blue eyes were uncertain as they searched his face for an answer. "Maybe..." He mustered.

 

 "Maybe?" Dan repeated incredulously. "Maybe it's the fact that I've been trying to get _you_ to talk about what's bothering _you_! And you keep pushing me away, always saying nothing's going on! While that clearly isn't true! But you clearly hit it off with this random new chick. You seem to have no trouble talking to _her_. So, tell me this, if you really want to talk to me. Were you even going to tell me about her? Or is this just because I accidentally found out?"

 

Phil's mouth was open, but he was speechless. He clearly hadn't expected that question. Though when he closed his mouth and hung his head, Dan had his answer.

 

"Get out." He whispered, fighting to keep his tears in check.

 

"Dan... no-" Phil tried to reason.

 

"No. Either you get out of my bedroom, or I get out of the house." Dan threatened, voice close to a whisper.

 

"Dan, you don't-" Phil began, but the doorbell interrupted him.

 

 _That'll be her_... Dan thought.

 

Phil seemed to think the same, because he left the room without meeting Dan's eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would love to get some feedback :) thanks to everyone who left kudos or comments!


	8. Communication breakdown

Chapter 8

 

"Since when do you ring doorbells?" Phil asked glumly as he opened the door, already putting on his coat.

 

Chloe cocked her head and crossed her arms.

 

"Would you rather that I just appear in your house as usual, even if your roommate is awake and around?" She asked glibly.

 

Phil shrugged and shook his head.  He zipped up his jacked in silence.

 

She studied him for a second.

 

"You look very despondent. I'm assuming there's trouble in paradise?"

 

"Do you assume or do you know?" He said as he pulled the front door closed behind him.

 

Chloe didn't answer. Instead she scanned their surroundings and, finding no onlookers, grabbed Phil's arm to disappear from London. Phil hardly even blinked anymore when she took him to a new location. Their work had really become ingrained in him. She was glad he was taking his fate seriously, even if time was running out on their training. The man's first real job was here, though Phil didn't know that yet.

 

"Where are we?" He asked as he studied their newest training location. They were in a hospital once again. She'd landed them in a quiet and abandoned coffee corner, then led the way by foot.

 

"St. Helen's in Dartford." She replied. She kept an eye out as a red-headed nurse passed them, studying a chart so intently that she didn't notice two new faces on her territory.

 

"Just outside London then? That's pretty close."

 

"Yes. Right here, down the stairs."

 

Chloe turned the corner and descended downward. Only Phil's steps echoed through the metal and concrete stairwell, Chloe's feet silent as ever. As they reached the new landing, a faded sign welcomed them to the pediatric section. She took him into a ward.

 

"Right. We don't have a lot of time. Maybe ten minutes, tops."

 

The ward was huge, with eight beds with sleeping children in them. There was no nurse or doctor to be seen. Phil couldn't even tell if some of the children were boys or girls, because some of them were bald, with thin, grey faces. He felt sick as he was ushered to the bed in the far corner. In that bed, there was a little girl with chestnut brown hair, thin and limp on the stark white linen of the pillow.

 

"Oh my god, they're all so young!" He gasped as he looked at the occupants of the room. "Will they live?"

 

Chloe looked at him stoically. "They? They will live without our interference.  This one here is the one that matters right now. She has a combination of two rare diseases, the doctors haven't found out what they are yet. And they won't, or at least not in time. These diseases have a very distinct and different appearance, so it's perfect to let you get the hang of visualization. I can let you practice for a few minutes, but then we need to heal and leave."

 

" _We_ need to heal? Usually it's just me who wants to heal." Phil observed slyly, casting a sideways glance at her.

 

"This isn't an Inconsequential. This one's still Fated, though a technical error has her dying in a few hours. We need to correct that. Eight minutes left now. Get to it."

 

Phil cast his worry about the other patients in the room to the side. At least they'd be okay, even if it sucked that they were sick now. Maybe he'd get to them another time. He'd pester Chloe as long as he needed to. First, he needed to do his job.

 

Chloe helped him as best she could, guiding him towards the sources of the girl's impending death, helping him focus and visualize. Then, before he knew it, Chloe gave him the order and he let his power flow, molten gold rushing through his veins, down his arms to the girl. A surge of nausea told him he was successful as he groaned and felt Chloe's cold arms hold him up.

 

Then, the world disappeared for a second and when his vision returned, he was outside.

 

"Urgh..." He groaned and closed his eyes. That healing wasn't too bad, compared to others, but it still wasn't a very pleasant feeling. He fumbled around for something to hold on to, finding only the blonde demi-goddess next to him.

 

"Welcome to Svalbard." She said, completely unperturbed by the fact that Phil was bent over, one arm held protectively against his stomach, the other clutching at her like she was an extra large cane.

 

"You gotta give me a sec." Phil moaned as he attempted to straighten up. "Because that just sounded like gibberish." He blinked against the low, setting sun. Not a single tree obscured the view, only rocks and grassy patches of land in front of him. To the side - the north? - an impressive mountain range loomed. To the other side, there was a set of little cabins.

 

Phil wrapped his arms tight around him as his body adjusted to their surroundings.

 

"Holy crap, you might've told me to bring a warmer coat!"

 

"We won't be outside for long. We needed to leave Dartford before the doctor returned. Congratulations on clearing your first job, by the way."

 

"Thanks. So where is this again?" Phil asked as he looked around. This land looked deserted, apart from the cabins. He tried to wrap his coat around him tighter. Chloe was still in her summer dress, entirely unaffected.

 

"Svalbard. Between the north of Norway and the North Pole." Chloe explained. Phil's eyes grew wide. No wonder it was bloody freezing!

 

"Your next job is here. It's a simple one, really. In a minute, a man will pass by. He's going to slip on that patch of ice, hit his head and pass out. That won't kill him, though. He's part of a very small research team here and he won't be found for hours, finally succumbing to hypothermia. He's due to find an important clue in regards to stopping global warming, so it's imperative that he be saved. Save his head and we're done."

 

"Only the one injury again huh?" Phil asked, his teeth only slightly chattering.

 

Chloe grinned. "Well, I'm sure he won't oppose you if you offer to take care of his erectile dysfunction, but I'm afraid that's what led him to flee the big city and join this research team in the Arctic. I'm afraid the world needs him here."

 

Phil winced. Poor guy. Fate really was cruel. A door opening and closing got his attention, as he spun around on his heel to see his next target shuffle from one of the cabins to the winding path that disappeared into a wood of rocks. Not twenty seconds later, a faint yelp, thud and _crack_ drifted across the sky. Then, silence.

 

At Chloe's nod, he followed the same path, finding his objective quickly. The gash on his head was easy to visualize and with a little help from the demi-goddess next to him, he also visualized the concussion that caused the man to black out. A few seconds later, the deed was done and before the fallen man could turn around to face his savior, the icy rocks of Svalbard disappeared from Phil's vision.

 

###

 

He knew where he was even before he opened his eyes. The smell was so familiar, it could only be a Starbucks. As the space came into focus, he noted that it was a Starbucks pretty close to his house. They were seated in a deserted nook. Good. Nobody should've seen them land here. A flick of Chloe's wrist and two steaming cups of coffee appeared on the table. Phil's cup had 'Philip' written in neat letters, Chloe's bore some crude, spiky cuneiform, probably representing her real name.

 

"You know what I don't understand? Why couldn't we have just warned the man, or made him walk around that little patch of ice?" Phil pondered as he rubbed his temple. The throbbing was fading quickly, as the injury hadn't been too serious. "Isn't it really a lot of work to heal afterwards?"

 

"Okay. Say that we had. I can't just magically make people move one way or another, so we would've had to tell him to take a few steps to the left. Then he would've seen us. How would you have explained your presence?"

 

"I could say I flew over on a reindeer?" Phil quipped. At Chloe's blank stare, he sighed.

 

"No one does Starbucks bants like Dan..."

 

 _Oh shit_.

 

He closed his mouth as fast as he could, but it was too late. He didn't want to talk about Dan with her.

 

"Are you going to tell him?" Chloe asked him, staring him straight in the eye. He couldn't decipher what her look meant. He weighed his next words very carefully.

 

"I don't want him involved." He said curtly.

 

"That's not really up to either of you." She mentioned casually.

 

Phil bit his lip. He debated whether he should change the subject or... no, Chloe already knew all about Dan. Before he knew it, words tumbled from his lips.

 

"Why did you do that yesterday... why did you let him discover us? Why is he getting involved?" Phil pressed. "I want to tell him everything, but not if that's going to get him involved in all this crazy... _stuff_ that's going on. I wanted him out of this. But you... You got him involved."

 

"Not fully. He just thinks I'm an ordinary girl you might be dating."

 

"Then why did you do that? Why would you let him think that? Because I think you did that on purpose."

 

"Did I? Hm, I'll give you that. Yes, I made a move to ensure the continuation of the thread. Sometimes a small action or reaction can have a very long lasting chain of reactions. I won't bore you with the details. But is he fully involved now? No. Will he be fully involved? Yes."

 

"Should I tell him? I just want him safe and happy for as long as he can be." He confessed in a soft voice.

 

Chloe leaned forward, the ends of her blonde hair brushing the table. Her grey eyes bore into him and Phil swallowed thickly as she started to speak.

 

"He _will_ be involved either way. How much or what exactly you want to tell him, is inconsequential to Fate. Whether he will listen... well, that will be interesting."

 

She took her cup and stood up. Wordlessly, Phil joined her and they walked outside. He looked toward the sky when the cool and crisp London evening air filled his lungs. In silence, they walked along the shopping street, people milling all about. His headache was subsiding quickly, though the little girl's illness still had him a bit queasy.

 

After a few silent minutes, Chloe stopped and turned to him. Phil halted as well. He noted that they were standing quite close.

 

"I won't be around the next couple of days, but when I return, you will have a job. I need you to train up on single injuries as much as you can. The next job depends on it and I can't help you with it. I hope all the training you've had so far will be enough. Though I suppose I could..." she trailed off.

 

"Your next job will involve a heart attack. I'll show you how to visualize it." She lifted her hand to his chest, laying it over his heart.

 

Phil sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide as he immediately felt a sharp tug and then a burning sensation in his heart. In a sort of natural reaction, his own hand went to clutch at his heart, but he grabbed Chloe's hand instead. He had no time to process that, as the visualization of a heart attack shot through his brain.

 

A second later, everything was back to normal, both their hands at their sides again and Phil's brain his own.

 

"Good luck." Chloe said. And when Phil blinked, she'd disappeared among the throngs of people in the busy street.

 

He stared down the street and took a sip from his coffee. Caramel macchiato. Dan and he had always had that when they went to Starbucks, ever since that first day they met at the Manchester train station seven years ago.

 

Seven years...

 

Phil knew it then. He'd tell Dan.

 

If Dan was going to get involved anyway, Phil wanted to be the one to tell him. After seven years, that was the least Dan deserved. A lightness spread through his heart when he made that resolution. He'd desperately missed Dan, keeping him at a distance to keep him safe. He couldn't wait, now that he finally decided that he should tell him what was going on. He had missed his friend's sage advice, his deep yet down-to-earth views, his ability to crack a joke and make the world feel like a better place, if only for a little while. Together, they could do this.

 

Chloe had seemed unsure whether Dan would listen to Phil, but Phil knew he would.

 

He just had to.

 

###

 

Dan had wrapped himself in his favorite hoodie, curled up behind his computer and he was, quite honestly, not very successful at distracting himself from the memories of Phil with that blonde girl.

 

Dan wasn't eight anymore. He knew damn well what it meant when a boy asked a girl to come up to his apartment in the middle of the night. It was all very clear. Boy meets girl, girl talks sweetly, boy looks sexy, boy asks girl to stay, girl rides the dick Dan had called dibs on ages ago. If he hadn't interrupted them, Dan was sure that would have happened. He felt a vindictive sense of glee that he had thwarted their plans. So what if he was a jealous bastard. Of course, some innocent girl wasn't to blame that Dan had fallen in love, but then, neither was Dan. He hadn't been consulted very much in the process at all. He certainly wouldn't have signed himself up for unrequited pining for seven years and counting.

 

He closed his eyes when he heard Phil come up the stairs. He hoped to every deity above that today could be just the two of them, as usual. No talk of this girl with her pretty hair and her hands all over Dan's man. He didn't even want to _think_ about her.

 

A soft rapping on his door made him open his eyes.

 

"Yeah?"

 

Phil came in, cheeks rosy from outside and his hair slightly ruffled from the wind. His blue eyes shimmered as they landed on Dan. He hadn't looked so open since the tour, Dan reckoned. Too bad that he probably had this look because of his _date_.

 

"Hey." Phil smiled with a sort of nervous excitement. "I need to talk to you."

 

 _Not about her, not about her, not about her_...

 

He raised a questioning eyebrow at Phil, silently signaling him to continue.

 

"It's about... her."

 

_Fuck._

 

"Look..." Dan started uneasily. "Can it wait? I'm really tired right now."

 

Phil bit his lip. "I... no... I need to say this." He started pacing across Dan's bedroom, running a hand through his hair, making it more messy than Dan's preoccupied brain could handle right now. "That girl... she's... she's not just a girl."

 

 _So, it's serious then_. Dan's heart sank, taking his mood with it, right down the drain.

 

"I'm sure she's lovely." Dan replied curtly and he turned his back to Phil, pretending to be distracted by something on his monitor.

 

"No, Dan... she's a goddess."

 

 _Are you fucking kidding me_. Dan thought. Now he was downright cranky. He couldn't do lovesick Phil. No fucking way.

 

"I mean, like not really, more like demi. Demi-god, not Demi Moore. Oh god, I'm rambling." Phil - indeed - rambled. "Well, anyway, she's, like, she's Fate."

 

Dan turned to him. Phil stood there, with big blue eyes, practically begging Dan to reply to him, but Dan couldn't. Phil didn't have the right to ask Dan to sympathize with his infatuation. Not while Phil was the reason that Dan had struggled with those same emotions for years and years on end now. Not a snowball's chance in hell. A sudden determination came over him. He just wasn't going to listen to this lovesick babbling.

 

"I'm really happy for you, Phil." Dan heard himself say as he got up. He shoved his laptop into his bag and drew a few random items from his dresser and tossed those in as well.

 

"D-Dan? Where are you going?" Phil asked.

 

His voice sounded so small, Dan almost felt sorry for the way he was acting. But he really couldn't handle this. A goddess... fate... Jesus, he was about two minutes from mentioning Cupid and divine plans. Dan was _not_ staying around for that. He didn't feel like projectile vomiting this week. He hitched his backpack onto his shoulder and turned to Phil, who looked absolutely dumbstruck.

 

"Going to my parents. Sorry, forgot to tell you. I'll be back soon. But hey, you'll have all the privacy you need, so... yeah."

 

With a vague half-wave Dan turned around and left. He only felt a little guilty when he saw Phil's confused and hurt expression.

 

Fate.

 

_What a fucking joke._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the kudos and comments! I love reading the comments and they make my day a little brighter! So thank you! :)
> 
> Just a few quick notes/disclaimers... It's not beta'ed, so all mistakes are mine. Not a native speaker, I'm trying to go for American spelling, but some British might sneak in. If you see mistakes, feel free to point them out!
> 
> Oh... and points for anyone who picked up on the Dartford hospital... from my story Phoenix Down :) I think I just love hurt!Phil+getting together stories...


	9. Consequences

Chapter 9

 

His old bedroom hadn't changed much. Sure, the walls were bare now and there were fewer knick-knacks (not _junk,_ thank you very much) laying around, but it was still very... _brown_.

 

With a sigh Dan flopped onto the bed and closed his eyes, rubbing them with balled fists. He wished this was the first time he'd attained this position for this reason, but it reminded him very vividly of 2009. How many nights had he spent like this, back then? Like so many years ago, his brain was whirring like a dusty old computer, trying to work out how he should approach Phil. But whereas years ago he spent nights wondering whether Phil would like him, whether they'd become friends or even more, this time he wondered how he could salvage their friendship, now that it had become abundantly clear that anything more than friendship would never happen between them. Stupid, how full of hope he'd been back then. And here he was again, back in his old bedroom, feeling like he'd come back to square one.

 

He shook his head, trying to get rid of his melancholic thoughts like a dog shaking off water. He was being melodramatic. He wasn't back at square one, that wasn't fair to either Phil or himself. That would negate all that they had built over the past years. They might not have built a relationship, but they did have a fantastic friendship, a bond that neither of them had ever had with anyone else. And they'd built careers - big ones. Careers with millions of fans and world-wide tours. Now who could have predicted that when he still inhabited this brown old bedroom? No, he needed to be realistic. Even if Dan didn't have everything he wanted, what he did have was amazing and he should be grateful. And Phil deserved to have someone who made him happy. That person might not be Dan, but that didn't mean Phil should be punished for that.

 

He did feel guilty for leaving their apartment in such a hurry. Especially when Phil had hurried after him, asking him to please listen. Dan had spun some bullshit about having an Uber waiting and hadn't looked back. He'd been too overwhelmed, feeling sorry for himself and feeling betrayed that he hadn't been the person Phil had chosen.

 

With a disgruntled sigh he grabbed his phone and started scrolling through his contacts. His head was all a-jumble and he needed to get everything screwed back on straight (well, not _straight_ per se, that was never going to happen) before he contacted Phil.

 

Louise. He needed Louise.

 

The phone rang once, twice, then his friend picked up.

 

"I had a feeling I'd be speaking to you sooner rather than later." She said in lieu of greeting.

 

Dan frowned at that. "Huh? Are you psychic now?"

 

"No. I'm just guessing you're calling about Phil and his new girlfriend, right?"

 

Dan propped himself up on one elbow, staring at the wall as if it had suddenly sprouted eyes.

 

"How do you know about that? Did you talk to him?"

 

"Dan, honey, it's all over Tumblr. They were seen downtown together, just look at his tag." Louise sounded almost apologetic. Well, she probably was; she was one of the few people in Dan's life who knew about his secret crush. She was covertly rooting for the two of them to get together, though she never dared interfere and play matchmaker.

 

"No way..." Dan breathed. "But... he's always so keen to be private! I can't believe this..."

 

"Sorry..." Dan didn't even hear Louise's reply, he was scrambling to get his laptop out of his backpack. It wasn't long before he'd found the pictures she'd mentioned.

 

"Seriously..."He couldn't hold back a groan. Some pictures were not too revealing; just the two of them walking side by side, each holding a cup of coffee. But one candid shot speared right through Dan's heart: the girl had her hand on Phil's chest, staring intently at him. Phil's hand had grabbed hers and he had his eyes closed, head bowed. He looked intense, almost reverent.

 

"I think I'm going to vomit." Dan said faintly. One part of his brain screamed at him to close the tab, erase this from memory, but a stronger part of him kept him glued to the screen. It was like watching a train wreck and he could not look away.

 

"You mean you didn't know?" Louise prodded gently.

 

"No... well, yes, but I didn't know about these pictures though. I met her a few days ago... he'd brought her home." He whispered. "In the middle of the night as well..."

 

Louise gasped. "Oh Dan! I'm so sorry. Oh my god, that's not like Phil! He must really have it bad... Are you okay? How are you dealing?"

 

Dan smiled in spite all that he had just seen. Louise was such a good friend and she genuinely cared for his feelings.

 

"I'm okay...ish. Phil is obsessed with her, I think. I may or may not have fled to my parents' house."

 

He could almost hear her wince at the other end of the line. "That bad, huh? Yeah, I'd need some distance too."

 

Dan snorted. "Yep. That bad. Get this, he was all nervous, saying how she wasn't just an ordinary girl, that it was fate, that she was a goddess." He made a fake retching sound. Louise giggled at that.

 

"She must be a goddess, though. Look at her walking around London in just a summer dress at this time of year. That's definitely not ordinary. If I did that, I'd have two more spots I could hang my shopping bags from."

 

It took Dan a second to cotton on but then -

 

"Urgh, Lou, that's disgusting. I did call you for moral support, not more trauma." He scolded her.

 

But at her laughter, he couldn't help but smile. It was good to have Louise on his side. He almost felt okay again.

 

Almost.

 

###

 

Phil looked around the empty apartment. Okay. It was safe to say that he had firetrucked up big time. Maybe next time he should actually design and incorporate a plan B in case Dan thought he was mental. Like now.

 

_Should I call him?_

 

Why was everything so complicated? Phil had never asked for any of this. All he wanted was just that Dan loved him back. And even if that clearly wasn't in the cards, at least he wanted that special, close friendship with him. Now his best friend avoided him like the plague and Phil had become a pawn in Fate's game.

 

He ran a hand through his hair, not even caring if he messed up his fringe. Dan wasn't here to scold him anyway. He resolved to call Dan in the morning. His best friend could fly off the handle easily and sometimes he just needed a little distance and time to calm down. Bothering him now would only push him away further. And besides, Phil needed to carefully think how he would break the news to him. His plan of "Just start talking, he'll try and understand" had backfired impressively.

 

He stretched and let his conundrum slide away. He'd think on it in the morning. Now, he should get training. And there was only one method he knew...

 

The razor blade he'd used before was still hidden behind that one shampoo bottle that Dan never used. Phil prided himself on knowing his best friend well enough to know how to hide things from him - even if hiding things wasn't something he was particularly keen on.

 

He twirled the blade between his fingers as he made his way to the living room, the sharp metal glinting in the corner of his eye. He might as well be comfortable, he thought as he sagged down on the couch and put his feet on the coffee table.

 

He stripped up his left sleeve and made five short cuts. _I'll only try to heal the middle one_. He thought and he focused all of his attention on that single cut.

 

###

 

The sun had set quite a while ago and Phil had become better and better at healing single injuries. His left arm was littered with cuts, with healed skin at random places. It really helped his visualization skills, letting his eyes and his brain send a very specific instruction to his powers.

 

He decided to up the difficulty. In the real world, he would not be sitting calmly in a quiet space. More likely he'd have to save people on the streets or in a busy venue. He'd have to learn to heal specifically with distraction all around him.

 

He turned on the television and continued his work.  He made a few fresh cuts, pressing a napkin to his skin to catch the worst of the bleeding (he did not want to have to do laundry before Dan returned). Then he returned his attention to the television, stealing a quick glance at one specific injury he wanted to heal.

 

By the time the 10 o'clock news came on, he deemed himself moderately successful. It wasn't a very normal definition of success, to have an arm that looked like it had been stuck in a shredder, but Phil counted the success by the very specific tiny patches of smooth skin he had ordered to be healed.

 

He tossed the razor blade on the soiled napkins and admired his handiwork. Not bad for a night's training. Chloe would be proud. He wondered what kind of job was next for him. But before he could think on that further, the newscaster on the television broke through his reverie.

 

_"This just in - tragedy struck at St. Helen's hospital in Dartford, just east of London. Sources confirm that a fire broke out in the pediatrics' ward and all seven patients of this ward have burned to death. The source of the fire is believed to be faulty wiring in the lights of the Christmas tree that had just been put up. All victims are children between the ages of-"_

The voice faded out, only a loud rushing sound filled Phil's ears. The pediatrics' ward. He'd been there. The images on the TV confirmed it - the faded sign, shrouded in smoke now, that was the sign he had passed. A camera shot from the door to the far end of the ward, where a bed had stood, but now in its place was the charred skeleton of a tree. He'd stood there, healing the girl whose bed was where the tree was now.

 

 _No_.

 

Nausea came over him, his stomach revolting at what he was seeing. This wasn't true. It wasn't. He shook his head as he stood up, stumbling over his own feet. This was some sort of trick. She'd said the kids would be fine, so this was a mistake, right?

 

"Chloe!" He yelled. He needed to talk to her. She needed to tell him it wasn't so, it hadn't happened.

 

"Chloe!!" He shouted again at the top of his lungs.

 

Suddenly she was standing there and he lunged at her, grabbing her by the shoulders.

 

"You said they'd be okay! It's wrong, it's gone wrong, you need to fix this." Phil babbled, eyes blurry with tears. "Please, I could've helped them..."

 

Chloe took his hand and pushed him away from her.

 

"There is nothing to fix." She said coldly.

 

Phil froze, his heart in his throat. "B-but... they'd be okay, you said, they'd be fine without our interference..."

 

"And we interfered." Chloe interrupted him. "We healed one and that changed a sequence. She and her bed left the ward and in its place comes the tree. This was Fated. I told you she was not Inconsequential. There were consequences."

 

Phil stumbled backwards, his tears hot on his cheeks.

 

"No... no, I don't believe it. Fate can't be this cruel."

 

She looked at him as if he was an ant, too dumb to understand her world. "Cruelty doesn't come into this. Certain events need to happen so that more good things can happen later."

 

"I refuse to believe this was the only way. You know how I think about human life and you didn't say anything. I asked if they would be okay and you _lied_." Phil was trembling all over as the realization came over him. "You tricked me... you used me... they're dead... because of me."

 

"You didn't have a choice. Neither of us did." Chloe looked at him with something akin to sorrow. "I have to go now. I'll be back in a couple of days."

 

Phil shook his head, angrily wiping at his tears.

 

"No. No, I'm out. Find someone else. I'm not doing this for you. I'm out."

 

But Chloe just gave him a sad smile and disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to update today but all your lovely comments inspired me :)


	10. Wrong

  

Numb.

 

That's what happens when the brain can't cope with reality. When it can't cope with the hurt, the sadness. It shuts down on itself in self-protection. Batten down the hatches when you fear the flood coming.

 

Phil had never been numb before. He'd been devastated before, and angry. He'd grieved before. This was nothing like anything he'd ever experienced. Somewhere, deep in his mind, a voice was telling him that something was wrong, everything was wrong... that something terrible had happened. But he couldn't comprehend it. Endlessly he stared at the wooden floor of the living room, his fingers gripping weakly at the rough texture of the couch, trying to make sense of the world again.

 

His phone lit up, vibrating on the coffee table. He stared at it in a detached sort of surprise, as though a ringing phone was some yet undiscovered phenomenon. His hand moved of its own accord, his thumb swiping the screen as it had countless times that he couldn't really remember right now. _Louise_ , the screen read.

 

He put the phone to his ear. He knew he should say something, but his mouth wasn't working.

 

"Hello?" Louise's voice was familiar, even with the tinny tinge of cellular communication. He hadn't talked to Louise in a while. It was nice to hear her voice, he thought.

 

"Hello? Phil, are you there?"

 

That pulled him out of the dark webs of his mind, prompting his brain to act.

 

"Ye-yeah?" He sounded croaky, he thought.

 

"Wow, you sound like you're a million miles away." Louise laughed. He didn't laugh. Dartford was closer than a million miles. Much, much closer to home.

 

"Um, Phil?"

 

"Yeah, sorry." He said hurriedly. _Gods, get it together._ He felt all the emotions looming over him, held back by a thin and trembling dam. A black cloud, kept at bay by his tenuous grip on his sanity.

 

"Alright, you really sound like you have your head up in the clouds! Or - oh my god, I'm not, you know, _disturbing_ you, if you know what I mean?" Louise giggled over the line.

 

"What? No." That didn't make sense to him.

 

"Oohh, because I wouldn't be surprised, what with tumblr and twitter falling all over themselves due to some pictures of you and a very pretty girl. Speaking of which, why did I need to find this out over the internet! Why didn't you tell me?" Louise prodded.

 

Why had he picked up the phone? Why? He didn't want to talk, not about anything and especially not about _her_. He felt his throat close up, restricting his breathing.

 

"Nothing to tell." He tried to sound normal, casual - he just hoped the quiver in his voice had not been audible. He was hanging by a thread, he knew. Images of Chloe started seeping through, flitting through his mind. Bits and pieces. Her gold thread bracelet. Her cold, cold grey eyes. The little lilt of accent in her voice as she told him the children would be fine if they didn't - no. He forced the memories down. He needed to end this phone call _now_. Before he broke down.

 

"Phil, don't be like this! She looks like a nice girl, where did you meet her?"

 

"Louise, drop it!"   

 

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. He'd snarled at her. At Louise, his friend. He felt like the biggest piece of garbage. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized what he'd done. What he'd done to Louise. And worse, what he hadn't done in Dartford...

 

"Phil? What's going on?"

 

Bless her soul, she didn't even sound angry. Only concern permeated her voice. She cared so much about him. That made Phil feel even worse about shouting at her. He felt tears slide down his cheeks and he sniffled.

 

"Oh sweetie... Did-did you have a fight with her or something?" She inquired gently.

 

"I never want to see her again." He whispered.

 

"What happened? You two looked kind of close."

 

Phil choked back a sob. Close? No, not close. But of course she'd made it seem that way. Probably all part of her damned big plan. A plan he didn't know a thing about. A plan he used to think involved healing people, saving them. How wrong he'd been. How naive he'd been to believe her.

 

"She lied. She lied and now it's all gone wrong."

 

That's when the dam broke. He couldn't hold back the flood anymore and before he knew it, he was crying.

 

"It's my fault. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have trusted her and I did and now it's my fault." He sobbed, clutching the phone like a lifeline.

 

"Oh my god, Phil! What happened? What's your fault?" Louise sounded shocked at his breakdown. Of course she wanted answers.

 

Phil couldn't give her answers. He couldn't tell her. Wouldn't tell his friend that he was responsible for the death of the children in the ward, because he'd trusted Chloe. Louise wouldn't ever talk to him again. She'd hate him as much as he hated himself right now.

 

"Phil? Tell me, please! I'm sure it's not your fault!" She pushed, her voice anxious now.

 

"I-I can't..." He hung up on her while she was replying. He couldn't do this. It was too much. The flood of emotions crashed over him and he was drowning.

 

He continued to sob, heartbroken, until he fell into an exhausted sleep on the couch.

 

###

 

There comes a turning point in life, usually after college, when midnight calls from friends do not excite you anymore. Instead, your first reaction is fear. It means something is wrong, something has happened.

 

So when Dan saw Louise's incoming call, his stomach turned.

 

He quickly picked up. "Hello?"

 

"Dan, what's going on with Phil?"

 

She sounded worried, anxious. He sat up in bed.

 

"What do you mean? Did you see him? Talk to him?"

 

"I talked to him on the phone. Dan, he wasn't normal. I tried to get some info out of him about that girl he was seeing. He was really reluctant to talk, tried to cut me off and when I asked again, he just barked at me to drop it."

 

"Let me guess, you didn't drop it?"

 

"Well, it's not normal for him to respond like that! Something was up! And it turned out I was right, because he told me he never wanted to see that girl again, she lied about something and now something's wrong and it's his fault. I kept asking what happened, but Dan, he completely broke down... and then he hung up on me."

 

Dan was sick with worry now. Phil was usually quite emotionally stable. But the last few weeks... nothing added up anymore. It was clear now that Phil was hiding something and he was hurting. It broke Dan's heart.

 

"He didn't tell you anything more? Any detail?" He whispered.

 

"Not a thing. If I could, I'd go over there right now, but I really can't. God, I wish I could." Louise sniffled. "This just isn't like him!"

 

Dan had to agree on that. "What should I do? I don't think I can get him to talk either."

 

"I don't know. I really don't. But I don't think he can be alone right now."

 

###

 

Cold wind sneered through him as he exited the Uber. It was the dead of night, well past midnight and only a handful of windows along the street were lit.

 

He'd tried calling Phil during the ride, but he never once got through. That had been the longest journey of his life so far - and he'd been to Australia. The dread in his heart, the foreboding sense of doom and not knowing what exactly it would be, made Dan so afraid to get home and so scared to get there at the same time.

 

As he climbed the stairs, he saw that the light in the living room was on. Soft as he could, he entered the room, avoiding the floorboards that creaked the most.

 

Phil was asleep on the couch. There were tear tracks on his cheeks and his skin was a sickly pale color. Dan's heart clenched painfully at the image. His Phil... he never wanted him to look so sad and tired. Phil was supposed to be joyful, to the extent that he was insufferable. Happy, cheerful. Not like this.

 

He shouldn't wake Phil up. He looked like he needed the rest. He turned to get Phil's duvet from his bedroom - Phil looked cold - and his eye fell on the coffee table.

 

Blood stained napkins.

 

And a razor blade.

 

Dan's heart stopped and his breathing stuck in his throat.

 

 _No_...

 

He wouldn't... Phil would never... would he?

 

He moved toward the couch, toward his sleeping friend, as if he was on wheels. Without thinking, he pushed Phil's sleeve up a little bit, fearing what he might see.

 

He saw cuts. A lot of them, methodically placed in symmetrical lines, with patches of smooth skin between them. He pressed his hand against his mouth, to stop from crying out. This wasn't happening, this couldn't be real. He stumbled backward, banging his legs on the coffee table.

 

"Hmm... Dan?"

 

Phil had woken up due to the noise. He blinked weary, dull blue eyes against the lights, frowning as he focused on Dan.

 

"What're you doing here? I thought you were at your parents' house." He asked, confused.

 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dan could only whisper brokenly, ignoring the question completely.

 

"Tell.. you?" Phil repeated slowly. Then something in his expression changed as he sat up and asked: "Did Chloe contact you? Did she tell you?"

 

"Louise did. She thought something was wrong with you." Dan fought to keep his voice steady.

 

"I'm fine."

 

That broke Dan's restraint. "No you're fucking not!" He yelled. "Fucking explain what you've done to your arm!"

 

It took a few seconds for Phil's confused look to change into a guilty one. That confirmed it for Dan.

 

"Look, Dan, it's not what you think..." He stammered, looking anywhere but Dan.

 

"What! What kind of fucking excuse are you going to give me now? You fell on a porcupine? A tiny rake? Just fucking stop it and tell me the _truth_ for once!" Dan raged at him, tears in his eyes.

 

Phil looked to be fighting himself on his response, as Dan stood there shaking with anger and sadness. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, he closed his eyes and nodded his head. In one fluid move, he had pulled back the sleeve of his jumper to reveal his arm.

 

His arm was riddled with cuts.

 

 

And then, it wasn't.

 

 


	11. Revelations

Dan just stared in silence at the smooth skin of Phil's arm. Maybe he'd fallen asleep at his parents' house or something, he thought. He'd probably just dreamed Louise's phone call and the cab ride and... and whatever the hell this was. Dreams were weird. This was weird.

 

Phil plucked at his sleeve, tugging the material down. Dan looked up at him. He seemed exhausted and he noticed the blue eyes were bloodshot and watery. And regretful, for some reason. Dan had dreamed about his friend before; he realized that this wasn't one of those times. No, they were both wide awake.

 

"I've wanted to tell you before." Phil whispered. "Gods, I want to tell you so much. And now I don't know where to begin."

 

Dan didn't move. How the hell was he supposed to know where Phil should start. Lord only knew how much he had hidden from him.

 

"Dan... I'm so sorry." Phil said, getting up from the couch and moving towards him.

 

Dan took an instinctive step backward and Phil halted immediately. Then his best friend hung his and sat back down on the couch.

 

"I'm sorry." He repeated, eyes downcast.

 

Dan's brain was sluggish. He realized that he was _afraid_. Afraid of Phil. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that that was ridiculous. It was _Phil_. Happy, clumsy, uncomplicated Phil. But at the same time, that wasn't him anymore. He didn't know that man sitting on the couch. And Dan was scared of him. Phil seemed to understand that from his reaction as he was wiping at his eyes.

 

"I... I'm sorry, Dan. I didn't tell you everything and I did have good reason not to. When I said... yesterday, I tried to tell you. Remember when I said that Chloe was a demi-goddess, that she was Fate? I wasn't lying."

 

A surprised bark of laughter escaped Dan's mouth. He pressed his hand against his mouth to stifle it. That was insane. That couldn't be real. He checked Phil's eyes to see whether he was lying, or if he was pulling some incredibly intricate prank. If it was, it'd be tremendously successful.

 

The look on Phil's face was unreadable. However, there was no trace of a joke anywhere in there.

 

"It started after the tour." He continued, speaking softly. "The day after we landed. I went out to get some air and she found me. There was no one there and a second later, she stood in front of me. I was so damn scared. I tried to run but she grabbed me. And then there was just pain and everything was _golden_..." He shuddered at the memory.

 

"She gave me a healing ability."

 

Dan sagged down on the coffee table.

 

"A- a healing..." He stammered. "Jesus, Phil..."

 

Phil smiled weakly. "Yeah, it took me a while to wrap my head around it, too."

 

Dan stared into nothing, his mind trying to make sense of Phil's revelation. A healing ability... the day after they got home. Memories flooded him. Phil sick. Phil secretive. Evasive. So many puzzle pieces that he'd gathered over the past few weeks...

 

"That was weeks ago." He mumbled. Then it clicked in his brain and he stood up. Anger was filling him as he thought back over that time. "Weeks, Phil! I _knew,_ I knew something was going on! I asked you so many times and you _lied_! You said you were fine and you fucking lied to me!"

 

"I-I had good reason to-"

 

"No! No. Shut the fuck up. This isn't what we do. We used to talk about everything, Phil! I can't believe you! Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you-"

 

"I wanted to protect you!" Phil cut in, desperation in his voice. Dan recoiled as if he'd been hit.

 

"From what?" He asked as he sat back down.

 

"I don't know." Phil's voice was tremulous. "And that scares me so much. I don't know what her plan is. I just know that it's- it's big. And dangerous. I didn't want her anywhere near you, Dan! You mean so mu-"

 

"Well, that bloody failed, didn't it?" Dan spat at him.

 

Now Phil sat back as if he'd been slapped in the face. "I can't believe you just said that. You have no idea what I've been through."

 

"Yeah, because you didn't fucking tell me anything!" Dan sneered. He was seething with anger that he'd been lied to. "So many times, day in day out, I kept asking you whether you were okay. Do you know how much I've worried about you? I've laid awake for hours just thinking about how I could get you to talk and then suddenly, you're taking that... that girl home in the middle of the night and now there's pictures all over the web of you and her just casually having coffee in the city! And now you're saying she's too dangerous to tell me about her? Well, excuse me if I don't fucking buy your bullshit right now!"

 

Phil gaped at him, opening his mouth, but no sound coming out. Then, he closed his mouth and tears started rolling down his cheeks.

 

"If..." he stammered through his tears. "If the last seven years of our friendship means anything to you, then please just let me explain. If you still think it's bullshit, then y-you must do what you think best."

 

Dan's heart tugged painfully at that. He just felt so off-balance, so scared and betrayed that he'd lashed out at his best friend. Phil was right - he owed it to their friendship to hear him out. So much he didn't still know and Phil looked like he was carrying a burden of enormous proportions. So he nodded, and Phil started talking again.

 

"When she gave me this ability, she said I had no choice but to accept it and that there'd be a price to pay. She never told me what it was, or what she needs me for. Or why on Earth she'd picked _me_ of all people. After that day, she showed up almost every single night. She's been taking me to hospitals in order to train my ability. Remember that news item a while back, of four people mysteriously being healed in a hospital in Whitechapel?" Dan nodded numbly. "That was me."

 

"The guy on the news, he said someone thought it was aliens. I told you about that... you were sick that day. That was the first day." He whispered, caught up in the memory. "Is that why you've been sick?"

 

Phil nodded. "I'm still not entirely sure how it works. When I heal people, I don't really heal them. I transfer their injury or illness to myself and then heal myself. When I take the injury, it feels as though I really have the injury, but then the healing starts immediately. I get a sort of spike, a real jolt at first and then it subsides quickly. Depending on the gravity of the illness or injury, it takes anywhere from a second to a few hours to completely heal."

 

"Which is how you always knew you'd be fine."

 

Phil smiled at him. "Yeah. And as for the cutting" He indicated the rags and blade next to Dan. "That's how I train focus, so I can only pick out one injury instead of every single injury someone has."

 

The puzzle was slowly completing itself in Dan's head. Phil had been doing this day after day, secretly stealing people's illnesses in the night, healing them on himself during the day and then doing it all over again the next night. Not to forget injuring himself to train even more.

 

"Jesus..." He muttered. "That's... that's wild, Phil. It's amazing. Incredible. But I still don't know why you couldn't just tell me. You can do so much good, helping so many people. I wish I'd known I didn't really have to worry about you being sick. I would've been able to help you more."

 

"Didn't you listen to what I said?" Dan's head shot up at that, connecting his eyes with Phil's. He looked intense - angry almost. "I didn't want her anywhere near you. The people I train on, she calls them Dummies. Inconsequentials, if she's feeling formal. People who have already played their part in the big plan and are of no use anymore, except experimenting. She's so callous, inhuman. And she won't tell me what her plan for me is and what the price is. But if she doesn't even give a second thought to actual human lives, then I don't want to know what she'd even consider a price. That's why I wanted you out of this. Though that's no longer relevant, because she showed herself to you, made sure she was standing there with me in the hallway when you walked out of your bedroom. You're part of the plan now, too, she said. So that's why I tried to talk to you yesterday. But for some reason she makes sure people will think we're a couple - I don't even know why. Another part of her plan... I'm terrified about our part in Fate. And even more terrified what will happen after that, when she deems you... Inconsequential. Because you're not - you won't ever be, to me."

 

Dan's head was spinning from all that information. He did understand now, he did see why Phil didn't tell him. He put his head in his hands, allowing his brain to churn everything he'd heard. He couldn't believe how much had happened, what secrets Phil had carried all this time. It seemed this Chloe girl - no, demi-goddess - was indeed more dangerous than she appeared.

 

"What happens to the- the Inconsequentials you train on?" He asked tentatively, scared for the answer. With a demi-goddess of Fate controlling your every move, especially a cold-hearted one as this Chloe, well, his stomach turned at the possibilities.

 

"She didn't want me to heal them. She just wanted me to learn how _not_ to heal, because at first I automatically healed everyone I touched. She wanted me to train on real people and then let them die. I refused her. I started healing everyone I trained on. She wasn't happy because it cut into my training time. I just started training on more people, even if that made me really sick sometimes. She may think some people are inconsequential, but I don't."

 

Despite everything, despite his previous anger and the topic at hand, Dan burst out laughing at that. Phil looked at him quizzically. A light, familiar feeling spread through Dan's heart. Love. Love for this amazing man, his best friend, even if that was all they'd ever be. His Phil.

 

"You're - oh my god, you're so... _you_! You fucking defied a goddess, Phil, to help strangers!"

 

It was so typical of Phil that he felt all remains of his anger fade away. This was the man he'd fallen in love with, Phil fucking Lester, the purest cinnamon bun even in the face of a terrifying almighty being. Even if it caused him to suffer for hours afterwards. Before he knew it, Dan had risen from the coffee table and moved to wrap his arms around Phil.

 

"Oh!" Phil gasped in surprise, though he hugged back all the same.

 

For a minute, they sat like that. Dan finally had his friend back and love swelled in his heart. He pressed his cheeks close to Phil's, whispering in his ear.

 

"You're amazing. Amazing Phil, best named youtuber ever. I can't believe how brave you've been, saving everyone you can. You really are- oh!"

 

Phil had pushed him away. "No. No, don't say that." He muttered anxiously as he scrambled off the couch and stalking towards the window.

 

"Phil?" Dan was confused, frowning at him from the couch.

 

Phil turned around, facing him. His eyes were moist and his voice was trembling as he spoke.

 

"Today... in Dartford. I healed a girl. She left the ward and in her place..."

 

"The Christmas tree. The fire." Dan gasped. He'd seen it on his news feed. Seven children were dead. He looked at Phil. Tears were streaming down his face now.

 

"It's my fault, I asked Chloe if the other children would live and she said they'd live without our interference. And I trusted her, I thought she meant... but we did interfere, because I healed one. I didn't think, I should've known she'd try to... oh god, it's my fault." Phil sobbed.

 

Dan all but flew towards him, grabbing him and pulling him in a close hug. He wrapped his arms around his friend as tightly as he could, trying to convey his love and support.

 

"No, no, of course it's not your fault. She tricked you. If she even knows the slightest thing about you, she'd know that you'd never do anything to harm those kids. Because you checked, you asked her explicitly and she lied to you. Oh my god, Phil, I'm so sorry that she did this to you. To those kids..."

 

Phil's arms came up to hold Dan close. Phil was inconsolable as he continued to sob into Dan's shoulder as Dan tried to keep his grieving friend together.

 

###

 

Hours later, Dan stared at the ceiling of living room as daybreak filtered through the curtains. Dan hadn't wanted to let go of Phil; he'd needed his support like a man needing oxygen. They'd sat and talked on the couch for a while longer, but finally Phil had fallen into an exhausted sleep, still cuddled up close to Dan.

 

Dan couldn't sleep. If anything, he wanted to pace until he wore a hole in the wooden floors, but he also wanted to keep Phil close to him and let him sleep. If only he could sleep - he'd always wanted to fall asleep in Phil's embrace. But his mind was whirring. Phil had been right: everything that had happened, everything was yet to happen - it was big. The more Dan pieced together, the more he realized he didn't know.

 

It scared the shit out of him, to be honest. He didn't know how Phil had gone so long, keeping this all to himself. It was huge and scary and definitely not over yet. After everything they'd talked about this night, Dan was sure of only one thing:

 

Whatever the hell it was, he would not let Phil face it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos, it really makes my day when I read a message! Hope everyone is having a wonderful Christmas! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as my gift to you :)


	12. Bad moon rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I first heard 'Bad moon rising' at the end of the first season of Supernatural. The happy cheerful music next to the dark lyrics is what really makes it stand out... it means there's a storm coming. But not to worry, in this chapter there is some happy stuff as well!

Chapter 12

 

A smoky, southern voice carried along by an upbeat guitar riff wafted through the air, the volume of the stereo high enough to force the sound through the closed windows. The downstairs neighbors had builders over again, Phil knew. Probably another attempt at making their basement habitable. It wouldn't be the first time - and if the previous attempts were any indication, nor would it be the last. Phil had pretty much accepted the noise as part of living in London; his best friend and roommate was not quite so adaptable, grumbling about it every so often.

 

Still, the song in the background was nice enough and Phil was still not quite awake. He wrapped his arms tighter around the warm bundle of blankets, pressing himself closer to it and breathing in the scent. It smelled like home and it made him smile against the fabric. It made him happy, that unique musk, reminding him of love. It was part spicy cologne, part...

 

Phil's breath stopped in his throat. That wasn't a bundle of blankets he was cuddled up to... it was Dan.

 

His mind flew back to his last memories of the night, backtracking so fast that he could almost hear the sound of his brain rewinding. The night's events reoccurred to him, as if a movie was being played for his mind's eye.

 

He'd told Dan... he'd told him everything. And Dan hadn't run away screaming, even if he'd been angry that Phil hadn't been honest with him for weeks on end. Dan had just hugged him, held him close... Phil's heart sank as he remembered why... the death of the children.

 

He didn't want to let go of Dan. He didn't even want to open his eyes, because when he did, he'd have to let go and their moment would be over. It only dawned on him now how alone he'd been these past few weeks, how much he'd missed his best friend. He'd pushed everything to the background, focusing on the tasks he'd been given and keeping his thoughts and feelings about Dan far away from... her. He feared Chloe and didn't want her to know how much he loved Dan, how much he wanted him.

 

Well, that was a moot point now. She knew much more than she let on. Dan was involved now, as she had known he would be. She never bothered to give Phil any heads up, just making vague allusions and informing him as events occurred. Phil knew there was more coming - the price she'd mentioned and had never elaborated on.

 

A few lines of the cheerful song on the radio outside penetrated his brain. Only then did he recognize it... it wasn't cheerful at all. Not in the least.

 

Phil felt nauseated. He knew the song - _Bad moon rising_ \- his father had played it endlessly when he was a child. He'd always thought it was a happy, fun number, until he was old enough to discern the lyrics. It was warning him.

 

_Hope you've got your things together_

_Hope you are quite prepared to die_

_Looks like we're in for nasty weather_

_One eye is taken for an eye_

 

Was this Chloe's doing? Like she'd done with the poster in the BBC building, conveying a message only for him, meaningless to the outside world? God, he was so tired of trying to divine her plan, her reasons.

 

He mentally shook himself. Now he was trying to find meaning in songs on the radio - he could drive himself crazy if he started seeing warnings and danger in every little thing around him. He needed to stop thinking so much.

 

He stealthily cracked one eye open. Dan was fast asleep, looking peaceful and angelic, even with a tuft of hair sticking out at a strange angle. Still, not even sleep could hide the faint hint of blue beneath his eyes, courtesy of his midnight travels. In a couple of hours he'd be bemoaning the bags under his eyes, Phil was sure of it.

 

He wondered what time it was, seeing as the sun seemed to be quite high in the sky already. Ever so gently he tried to raise his body up a bit to locate his phone, but their limbs were all in a tangle, so Dan woke up as soon as Phil moved.

 

"Hrmm?" Dan grumbled as he squinted against the sunlight. Then his eyes settled on Phil's and he froze.

 

Phil froze too. Their faces were only inches apart. He kept as still as possible, as if Dan was a startled deer he'd stumbled upon in the forest. The seconds seemed to stretch onward, their eyes locked, Dan's expression unreadable. Then -

 

"Hi." Dan smiled.

 

Phil let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and smiled back despite the turmoil of emotions in his heart.

 

"Hey."

 

He wondered whether he should extract himself from Dan now. They weren't exactly in the habit of even giving hugs, and now they were pressed close on the couch.

 

Neither of them let go, however.

 

"Did you sleep well?" Phil asked gently. "I know I sprung a lot on you last night."

 

"It's okay. It's just... so much to take in. I'm glad you told me, though. I'm glad that we're in this together."

 

The sincerity in Dan's eyes made Phil's heart clench painfully. If only Dan could know that Phil wanted to be together with him in _all_ things - completely. But Phil had flown by the seat of his pants on the secret he _had_ already divulged - he wasn't ready to try his luck on his other, older secret. He hadn't dared for seven years, so it was unlikely he was ready to gamble his life away now, especially under these circumstances.

 

"I'm glad you didn't run off screaming or try to hold a witch trial." Phil quipped lightly.

 

Dan's arm tightened around his waist as he bit his lip. Phil wasn't going to tell him how incredibly cute he looked when he did that - he just stored the image in the endless Dan-archive in his head and maybe, just maybe, rubbed his thumb lightly over Dan's back. He'd never even dreamed Dan would stay so close to him. It was almost enough to drive all the negative memories from his thoughts.

 

"You were right." Dan started pensively. "When you said I owed it to our friendship to listen to you. We're much too close to let secrets stand between us... don't you think?"

 

Phil's mouth went dry. Dan's face was close to his, his deep brown eyes seeing right through him.

 

Did Dan know his other secret, then? If so, he didn't look as disgusted as Phil had always feared... but on the other hand, he didn't give the slightest indication that he returned the feelings.

 

"What do you think, should we be _completely_ honest with each other?"

 

Phil searched his eyes... he saw nerves. Even a little bit of fear. It turned his stomach - he was right then. Dan knew he had another secret and he was scared... Was he scared that Phil was in love with him? He stopped his thoughts right there. He couldn't handle sussing that one out right now.

 

"I think we have quite enough to be getting on with as it is, isn't it?" He said weakly.

 

Dan was quiet for a bit. Then he said: "Right." and his eyes fell. Wordlessly, he let go of Phil and clambered off the couch, leaving to make coffee.

 

Phil sighed and laid an arm over his eyes. Dan had seen right through him... and then Phil had lied _again_. Well, he hadn't lied exactly, but Dan knew that he was hiding more. But he couldn't deny the fear and nerves he'd seen in those gorgeous brown eyes. He thought he knew what that meant and he definitely wasn't ready for the rejection that was imminent as soon as he shared his other secret.

 

On the other hand, why had Dan asked if he feared the answer?

 

A migraine was beginning to build behind his temples. Fuck, his life was a mess.

 

###

 

Dan continued to confuse him throughout the day.

 

He was touching a lot more than usual, as if he was scared that Phil was going to run off or disappear and he needed to reassure himself that Phil was still there. Phil's sketchy behavior hadn't driven him off in any case, so that was a good thing.

 

Dan kept leaning in, sitting close to Phil on the couch or brushing up against him in the kitchen. Phil just drank in the contact, letting it soothe and stabilize him, even if it did make butterflies flutter anxiously through his chest. He supposed he ought to be used to the myriad of emotions raging through him, as grief and relief and love and guilt still reigned over him.

 

"I think I'm having a reverse existential crisis." Dan confessed at dinner.

 

They had ordered pizza, neither of them willing to cook. Dan's leg was pressed against Phil's, one of the many forms of contact Dan had maintained all day. Phil sent him a questioning look, silently chewing on stuffed crust.

 

"It's... usually, I feel so empty when I think that the universe is all random and meaningless and that nothing really matters. That used to scare me. Now I know that there is something more, some sort of plan and that terrifies me even _more_. Because I'm not really in control anymore; someone else is pulling on the strings and maybe we're just puppets of a handler." He glared at the pizza, as if that had some form of malevolent omnipotence as well.

 

Phil laughed hollowly. "I hope you're not looking to me to contradict you... I know exactly what you mean. I got given crazy superpowers and now I don't even want to use them. Even if I did want to go help a sick person, maybe a dying child or something, I'd just be terrified that that action will cause a butterfly effect that kills other people. I mean, it's already happened."

 

Dan looked at him with sympathy, but he had no real solution to Phil's dilemma either.

 

Phil pondered for a second, before he continued. "What good are these powers, except to do exactly what Chloe wants from me? Why didn't she pick someone who's used to these kinds of dilemmas, or someone who can follow orders blindly? Why did she pick me?"

 

"Well, maybe it's because you don't want to follow orders blindly." Dan said pensively.

 

Phil huffed at that. "There's a million other people who don't follow orders. And I'm not even very effective at that - I've done everything she's asked so far. Maybe she just wanted a mediocre pers-"

 

"You're not mediocre." Dan cut in sharply.

 

Phil fell silent, though he wanted to contradict him. Dan seemed to sense that, and he looked like he was steeling himself before he continued.

 

"Phil, you have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met. You're so kind and sweet and you're definitely _not_ mediocre. Don't ever say that about yourself. You have gone through illness after illness, not because you were ordered to, but in spite of being ordered _not to_. That is special, Phil. That is _you_."

 

Phil's mouth had fallen open at Dan's passionate rebuttal.

 

"But, Dan, I j-" He started to sputter.

 

Unfortunately, that only seemed to anger Dan.

 

"No, you're such a complete self-deprecating idiot! You don't even realize how amazing you are, always doubting yourself and thinking of what's best for others, even if it means you have to sacrifice something! You don't even realize that makes you special, you idiot! It's all these little things... all the reasons why I love you!"

 

"L-love..?" Phil gasped in astonishment.

 

_Was this happening?_

 

Dan seemed just as shocked at his revelation as Phil felt, but then something stirred him into action. In one fluid motion, Dan had taken Phil's face in his hands and pressed his lips against Phil's.

 

Phil's brain stopped working. His world narrowed down to the mouth on his. A thousand years he'd dreamed of this and it had come at him so completely unexpectedly. Dan's lips were so soft - but before he could reciprocate the kiss, Dan pulled back.

 

"I-I'm sorry... I needed, wanted to do that... before you rejected me." He murmured, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

 

 _Reject_? Phil almost had to laugh at the absurdity of that statement. He felt happiness spread through his heart, racing through his veins and lifting him up. Dan liked - no, loved him. And he loved Dan. He wouldn't reject him in a lifetime.

 

"Now who's the idiot." He smiled.

 

Dan's eyes widened and before he could question him, Phil pulled him in for another, proper kiss.

 

###

 

The threads were slowly repairing themselves, she saw.

 

Good. It was always pleasing when something happened that was meant to be, even if it took longer than it should have.

 

She looked down at the two of them, a vague feeling of fondness for them making her smile. At least they had each other now, no holds barred. They were going to need it.

 

The bad moon was rising.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They kissed! Whoo hoo! See, I'm not exclusively about gloom and doom! I look forward to having them team up on the healing front. I know this story is already rated M for the blood and injury stuff, but should I extend that to some more err.. happy M-rated stuff?


	13. Heartbeats and where to find them

Chapter 13

 

"Can't believe... I missed out... on so much." Phil gasped between kisses. Dan's lips were hungry, chasing his the second they parted and brought them back together.

 

Dan wasn't keen on discussing the matter with him, on the other hand. Fingers gripped at his shirt, at the belt loops on his jeans and pretty much everywhere in between. He seemed torn between wanting to push Phil up against the wall and wanting to pull him as close to his own body as he could. It was quite the dilemma, Phil mused, and he resolved to simplify matters by letting Dan take the lead. He would meet him halfway, as always.

 

An opportunity presented itself when Dan pulled back a little, needing oxygen. His dark brown eyes were shining, the glimmer matched by his red-kissed wet lips, but Phil had his eyes on the flushed skin of his neck. He peppered a trail of kisses, over the cheek, the jaw, until he reached a spot right under Dan's ear that elicited a groan from him.

 

Phil grinned against the hot skin, pleased with the reaction. He wanted that, he wanted to hear that sound every day for as long as he could have it. He wanted to see what else he could do, what other noises he could pull from Dan.

 

Instead, he slowed their pace and allowed a bit more room between their overheating bodies. He may have been missing out for seven years, but he wouldn't mess up now by going too fast. He needed to cherish this. Dan needed to know he wasn't just in it for the physical aspects.

 

Dan seemed to sense his sentiment, relinquishing the belt loops and resettling his hands on Phil's arms. Phil smiled at him. They kissed more chastely then, closed mouths meeting, molding together, their contented sighs mixing between them.

 

It had only been a day.

 

A day since they both realized they had been utterly dense dumbasses for _seven freaking years_. That surely deserved a place in the Guinness Book of Records or something. Or rather a Wall of Shame maybe. It had _literally_ taken a demi-deity to perform a dual anal capital extraction - or, not to mince words, pull their heads out of their asses. Not many people could knowingly say they started a relationship because of cosmic intervention. And after all the shit he'd been dealt, Phil wasn't going to question this turn of events and just took it with both hands.

 

Dan had seemed equally flabbergasted when he found out his feelings were reciprocated. Like Phil, he had pretty much given up after a few years.

 

But now... now truly nothing stood between them. Now they could do what they had both wanted to do for so very long.

 

They were going to take their time. Time to get to know each other all over again. Living with someone might teach you a lot, but there's something in that first open gaze, meeting eyes as... as _lovers_ , partners,  to make you realize there's still so incredibly much that you don't know. Phil wanted it. He wanted what he saw in those deep brown eyes he was finally allowed to stare into without abandon. He wanted to know every little detail, every insecurity, every source of joy, every fear and every obsession. And in return he wanted Dan to turn him inside out as well.

 

The past few weeks, he'd had the feeling of standing on a precipice. Like he was on the verge of jumping into something he didn't know the depths of. He'd had that notion on several different occasions. He was just happy that this time it was for a very nice reason.

 

If 'just happy' meant 'so exhilarated that your heart might squirm out between your ribs'.

 

###

 

Their little honeymoon phase lasted only two more days.

 

They were on the couch, curled up together as Phil fought to effectively divide his attention between Dan and the movie they were streaming. It was difficult, because, honestly, no matter how interesting Eddie Redmayne was, when Dan was nuzzling your neck and you felt his warm breath ghost over your skin... wait, what movie were they watching again?

 

"If I was a fantastic beast, would you let me travel in your suitcase?" Dan mumbled, the movement of his lips on Phil's adam's apple _very_ distracting.

 

"No." Phil smiled as Dan lifted his head and looked affronted. He dropped a quick kiss on the pouting lips. "I wouldn't want to have to go into my suitcase every time I wanted to see you. I'd keep you in my pocket like that Bowtruckle."

 

"I'd make a joke about microphilia, but I'm not going to kink shame you as long as it involves me." Dan grinned. Phil cuffed his head and opened his mouth to reply - but then something on the screen caught his attention.

 

"Is that part of the movie?" He frowned.

 

On the screen, two of the main characters were in a bakery, but the scene was bathed in gold. It didn't seem to match the scene, however.

 

"Is what part of the movie? It's the bakery, you know, like he wanted?" Dan replied, puzzled.

 

Phil sat up abruptly, almost making Dan fall over when the warm and cozy body he'd been reclining on moved away.

 

"It's golden. You don't see it?" Dan shook his head. "Then it's her."

 

 _Then it's her_.

 

Dan didn't need to ask who he meant. He looked over at the screen, but he definitely didn't see what Phil was supposedly seeing. His eyes flicked back to his black-haired boyfriend, who was perched on the edge of the couch, staring at the fleshy Muggle as though he held the secrets of the universe.

 

"A bakery... but where..." He mumbled. He brought his fingers together and leaned his chin on them. Dan was almost reminded of Sherlock Holmes, trying to crack a case.

 

They stayed silent as the end credits started to roll, waiting for... well, Dan didn't know what the hell they were waiting for. Phil, however, seemed to know exactly what he was waiting for, eyes narrowing as he studied the list of names that rolled by.

 

Then, suddenly, he sat up like a shot.

 

"Chesham." He muttered and turned off the TV. "The bakery on Chesham street."

 

"I'm coming with you." Dan blurted out.

 

Phil turned around, looking hesitant. "I don't think I'm going." He whispered.

 

Dan froze.

 

"Not after... you know."

 

The fire. The kids. God, Dan knew.

 

" I told her. I told her to find someone else." Phil was staring into space now, eyes misty.

 

"Hey..." Dan moved to sit closer to him, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in the crook of his neck. He felt Phil's hands come up and close around his own, his thumbs absently rubbing in little circles.

 

They sat like that for a few minutes.

 

"I think I need to do this." It sounded as if Phil didn't full-heartedly agree with his own assessment, because it almost sounded like a question.

 

"Why?"

 

Phil squeezed his hands and tugged Dan's arms around him tighter. "I could just ask her like I did last time, but I'd never know if she'd lie again. So I need to make my own decision. And right now I definitely know someone is going to get hurt. A man. He's going to have a heart attack. She told me and she'd have no reason to lie about that. Not about people she wants saved. I don't think I could just sit back and do nothing while I know that someone is going to die. So... this is the best decision I can make right now." He finished in a small voice.

 

Dan pressed himself closer to Phil's back, kissing the side of his neck.

 

"I think you're absolutely right." He murmured. "I'm proud of you, you know that? I don't think I could rationalize it so clearly. But it's definitely the right decision."

 

Phil let go of his hands and  turned his torso towards him. He had a sad smile on his face and his eyes were not completely dry. Dan leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to that sad smile. Phil sighed into the kiss, but then pulled back.

 

"Let's go then." He decided.

 

###

 

Chesham street wasn't far from their flat, so they opted to walk there. Dan felt jittery, nerves on edge, not entirely unlike the feeling he'd had every time he was about to go on stage for TATINOF.

 

Phil was quiet, which unsettled Dan more than he could say. The blue eyes just scanned the pavement, occasionally flicking up to read street signs. He seemed to be steeling himself for something. Dan didn't push him. If he was nervous, then he couldn't imagine how Phil was feeling.

 

Phil's restlessness grew as they turned a corner and then he broke the silence.

 

"Look, Dan... you know what's going to happen, right? What happens when I heal?" He asked. He looked incredibly self-conscious. Dan wondered why - oh. Oh, right.

 

Transferring the injury before it heals.

 

"I just need you to know... you don't need to panic, okay?" Phil muttered, looking anywhere but in Dan's general direction. "I don't know how it might look to you, but you have to know I'll be alright, yeah?"

 

A cold fist squeezed Dan's heart. It fully dawned on him, then, what they were about to do. No, scratch that, what _Phil_ was about to do.

 

"You're going to have a heart attack for someone." Dan whispered to the bricks on the road - and fuck, when had his voice started sounding so constricted? Blindly he fumbled for Phil's hand, not caring that they were in public. He found purchase, the warm hand in his a steadying comfort.

 

"Don't be scared, okay? I'll be absolutely fine. As always, I promise. Maybe you can make sure we get out of there quickly? Can you focus on that?" Phil asked him tentatively, now looking at him.

 

His vision was a little blurry - damn his traitorous eyes - as he looked back. Phil didn't even seem that scared by the prospect of his impending healing adventure. He was more worried about Dan. He quickly blinked his tears away and took a steadying breath.

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that." It was the least he could do. He had no right to be so terrified when he didn't even have to do what Phil had to do. No, he'd be strong for him. Phil deserved that much at least.

 

Finally, they reached the bakery.

 

Phil came to a stop just across the road, where they had a good view of the place. Dan peered in. A few people were inside, but nobody seemed to be having a heart attack right at that moment. He glanced at Phil, who'd lowered himself on a low stone wall.

 

"How do you know which person you have to save?" He asked, glancing around the street and the nearby park.

 

"I'll find out. When she wants me to see something, it'll light up golden. Though I don't think someone having a heart attack would be needing a signal like that. Usually she just points out who I need to heal." Phil shrugged.

 

Dan sat down next to him. "Well, I don't think she'd be very obtuse when it's her own target at risk."

 

Phil snorted. "Yeah, or me."

 

Dan shot him a questioning glance. Phil met his gaze with an embarrassed grin.

 

"I mean... just in case it's a bad injury or something and someone is too close to death, I can't save them. I'd risk my own life if I switch the injury to myself and it was too severe to let it heal. You know I told you the worse the injury is, the longer it takes to heal. There's like... a tipping point where I can save someone else, but not myself."

 

Dan's eyes grew wide in horror and Phil immediately tried to placate him.

 

"Sorry! That sounds worse than it is, really. Chloe already told me she keeps a very close eye on me to prevent that from happening! That's also why she taught me how _not_ to heal. So don't worry, okay?"

 

Dan was definitely worried, but before he could reply - or rather, tear Phil a new one for keeping this teeny tiny detail from him - there was commotion in the bakery. Phil was on his feet and crossing the street before Dan had fully realized what was happening. Then Dan scampered off the wall, hurrying to join Phil.

 

Inside the bakery, a portly man was waving his arms at the girl behind the counter.

 

"What do you mean you have no cream buns! I've been a loyal customer for years, I've been coming here for cream buns before you were born, little lady!" Specks of saliva flew from his mouth, his face almost as red as the cheery sign just outside.

 

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but the shipment is -" The girl stammered. The poor thing seemed at little shell-shocked.

 

"The only shipment you need to worry about is your ass out of here once I contact your headquarters!" The man raged. Then he turned on his heel to make a dramatic exit.

 

Before he'd reached the door, he grasped at his shirt, letting out a nearly animalistic growl. His red face was turning purple and without further warning, he plummeted to the ground, screeching like a behemoth slain.

 

Phil was on his knees next to him in a flash, thrusting out his hand to slap away the thick sausage fingers that were uselessly grappling at the chest.

 

More people surrounded them now, some standing and two more dropping to their knees next to the obese man. Dan didn't care about that guy. He just had eyes for Phil, who seemed to be completely focused on his own hand on the fat man's chest, blue eyes narrowed intensely and his mouth a thin hard line. He didn't even notice that the man's fingers were clawing at Phil's arm and hand now, his nails scratching red marks over him.

 

Dan first noticed the red marks disappearing, then he snapped his eyes up to Phil's face.

 

He'd done it.

 

No one had noticed, but Phil had done it. His face, the face that Dan loved so much, was contorted in agony. Phil was gritting his teeth, fighting every instinct not to shout out like the man on the ground had done.

  
With a pang of fear, Dan saw that Phil's hand was now scrunched up in his own t-shirt.

 

Phil was having a fucking heart attack right there and no one noticed. Everyone was only focused on the man on the ground, his rotund belly heaving as he didn't even realize he was no longer having a heart attack. He was just in shock now.

 

Dan grabbed Phil by the arm and Phil seemed to realize what they needed to do now - they needed to get out. Stumbling, Phil stood up, leaning heavily on Dan, one hand still pressed to his chest and his face still scrunched up in pain.

 

Dan didn't know how they'd done it, but moments later they were outside and just around the corner in an alleyway. He was tightly holding on to Phil, who was breathing harshly and didn't exactly seem to be capable of walking back home.

 

 _Fucking Chloe_. That's all Dan could think. Fucking Chloe had done this to Phil. Hadn't even given him a chance, just let him take the hits.

 

Now how the hell was he going to get Phil back home?

 

"Least you can do is give us a fucking ride, you bitch!" Dan shouted at the sky, once again fighting tears in his eyes. Phil chuckled next to him, through his pain.

 

And a moment later, something in reality shifted and they were standing next to Phil's bed. Dan barely had a chance to comprehend what was happening before Phil's knees gave out and he crumbled onto the bed with an agonized groan.

 

###

 

Two hours.

 

Two whole fucking hours.

 

That's how long Phil had been out. Dan hadn't been able to move from his side the second he'd passed out. An hour ago, he'd actually laid in bed next to him, stroking his hair, his forehead, his cheeks... as the time passed, the lines of pain in his face became less harsh, some at the edges even faded.

 

Dan knew that Phil had said it would be scary, but that he'd be alright. But Jesus Christ on a horse, that had _not_ prepared him for reality. He may or may not have cried for the past two hours.

 

Phil started moving then, letting out a low groan as consciousness returned to him. He opened his eyes, blinked a few times, then saw Dan.

 

"Hey. You stayed." His voice was a bit weak still.

 

Dan shot up. "Oh my God, Phil! How are you feeling? Are you in pain, do you need anything?" He immediately started rambling.

 

Phil grabbed his hand and rubbed it comfortingly. "Oh Dan." He sighed. "I told you not to worry. How long was I out."

 

"Two hours!" Dan said indignantly.

 

"Oh. Yeah, fresh ones tend to sting a little more." Phil smiled in what he probably deemed a reassuring manner. Dan disagreed.

 

"Sting? You had a fucking heart attack and you were out for two fucking hours. You scared the crap out of me." His voice was wavering, his grasp at stability loosening.

 

"I'm sorry... but I swear I do feel loads better. Just sore now. I'll feel completely normal in no time. But I am sorry that I scared you. Can you forgive me?"

 

Dan let out a tremulous sigh. "You're lucky that I love you." He joked feebly.

 

"I love you too." Phil smiled. He held out an arm and Dan shuffled across the bed to embrace him.

 

Dan laid his head on Phil's chest, letting the strong, regular heartbeat lull him into an exhausted sleep.


	14. Eye of the storm

Chapter 14

 

Dan skittered around the apartment nervously. Phil was in the shower, the sound of his humming drifting up the stairs. That gave Dan time to clean up a bit. They'd nearly had an argument about that - Dan had insisted that his boyfriend should rest up and not do anything strenuous. That hadn't sat well with the older man.

 

"Dan, I'm serious, I'm completely fine!" He'd sighed in an exasperated tone. "You don't need to treat me like I'm sick. Not now, anyway."

 

"I can't help it, Phil. I watched you have a freaking heart attack yesterday, okay? I need to _do_ something. I can't get it out of my head." He'd confessed. "A man shouldn't have to save lives _and_ do the dishes, right?" He'd joked feebly, trying to mask his own jitters.

 

"Be careful what you say, I might use that against you sometimes." Phil had smiled as he'd drained the last of his morning coffee. "But seriously. No special treatment, okay? Things are weird enough without you turning into Cinderella." With a squeeze of his hand, he'd left the kitchen to shower.

 

And Dan had gone on a cleaning frenzy, razing the apartment in search of dirty cups and empty plates, then scrubbing the kitchen until it sparkled.

 

When he heard the shower turn off, he poured himself a glass of orange juice and retreated to his bedroom, one last glance at the little chrome and granite paradise he'd left behind.

 

His computer had barely booted up when he heard footsteps come up the stairs and down the hallway. Then the footsteps stopped - retreated a few steps - and then a comical sigh. Dan smiled smugly as he took a sip of his juice.

 

"Dan..."

 

"Yes?" He asked innocently, swiveling his chair around when his bedroom door opened.

 

Phil was standing there. In only a towel. Dan nearly choked on his drink, but he managed to keep his composure. Honestly, that should be illegal, to stand there with wet hair and skin still pink from the heat of the shower...

 

"I thought I asked you, no special treatment?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

 

Phil rolled his eyes at him and strode over to him, holding out his hand. Dan accepted it and let himself be pulled out of his chair and into Phil's very, very bare arms.

 

"Come on. I just want everything to be as normal as possible. I know you don't like cleaning. You're a terrible slob." Phil grinned.

 

"Ah, such cruel words." Dan lamented dramatically. "I had hoped better from such an innocent mouth."

 

"Hm, fair enough. Maybe my mouth can make it up to you?"

 

The glint in his electric blue eyes told Dan all he needed to know and he eagerly greeted the warm kiss that awaited him. He hummed in pleasure as the soft lips slotted against his own so perfectly, like they were made for this, for each other. The taste of him was something that Dan knew he was addicted to, the second their mouths had first met. He'd never experienced the feeling so intensely, so suddenly with anyone else.

 

The kiss deepened quickly, Phil's tongue entreating entrance by licking Dan's bottom lip. Hands started to wander, raking across naked skin, or, in Dan's case, under his shirt. Each finger left a hot trace, like they were painting each other with fire.

 

"Off." Phil demanded hoarsely, tugging Dan's shirt upward. Dan took over, yanking the cotton obstruction over his head and tossing it away. No sooner had the material left his hands, or Phil's hand snaked to the back of his head to pull him back in a heated, open-mouthed kiss.

 

Their arousal soon became apparent, a nervous sort of excitement igniting inside them. Dan couldn't wait any longer, pushing Phil backwards until his legs hit the edge of the bed. He let himself fall backwards, pulling the brunette on top of him. They both groaned when their erections met, only Dan's pants and the towel in between them.

 

Dan sat back, gripping the rough cloth that tented over the proof of Phil's lust for him.

 

"Yes?" He asked, nodding to the towel to make his meaning clear.

 

"Yes."

 

Gods, he loved it when Phil's voice sounded so deep. It was freaking sensual, sending shivers down his spine. He tugged at the towel, tearing it away from his prize. His mouth went dry when he saw it, standing proudly between them, evidence clear as day that Dan had done that to him.

 

Phil went beet red as Dan examined him, committing every inch to memory. In order to distract himself, he sat up and let his hands rest on Dan's hips.

 

"Can I see you too?" He asked shyly. Dan nodded. Unable to speak, he moved his lover's hands to his waistband, indicating that he could go ahead. He kept his eyes trained on Phil as he felt his pants being lowered, nothing between them but air.

 

After what felt like an eternity, Phil whispered. "You're gorgeous."

 

Dan was sure that he was blushing as hard as him as he replied. "So are you."

 

Hands drifted lower, stroking his hips, his thighs, squeezing gently, almost reverently. When the hands finally moved up and warm fingers curled around his hardness, Dan gasped. Phil's eyes shot up to find his.

 

"Is this okay?" He asked. He almost sounded worried, and Dan wouldn't have that.

 

"Oh yeah. Very okay." And in the spirit of reciprocation, he wrapped his hand around Phil's stiffness, earning himself a low moan. "See?" He said teasingly.

 

With his free hand, Phil tugged him down again for a slow, deep kiss, while he also pumped his hand up and down Dan's shaft. The dual stimulation pulled a groan from Dan, who in retaliation rubbed his thumb across the head. Phil moaned again, louder but muffled between their lips.

 

As their hands sped up, they knew they wouldn't be able to last very long. They were too far gone in this new sensation, this new experience of exploring each other.

 

Suddenly, the warm hand around Dan's hardness left and his own hand tugged away. Before he could question the reason, he felt Phil's length slide right against his own.

 

"Oh!" His eyes flew open as the new feeling almost sent him over the edge. Phil brought Dan's hand back to their cocks, then let both of his own hands slide down Dan's flanks and cup his ass. As he squeezed the globes, Dan rocked forward, stars shooting behind his eyes as their lengths slid through his fist. He knew what Phil wanted and he took his cue, rutting forward once more. They both moaned loudly, Phil throwing his head back on the pillow and arching up to create friction.

 

The pale skin before him was too tempting, so Dan's only option was to latch his mouth onto Phil's neck and suck hard, while simultaneously grinding down his hips and moving his hand in short, fast jerks.

 

The fire in his belly was raging, spreading to the top of his head and the tips of his toes, finally congregating at the base of his spine as he came with a muffled shout, his mouth still clamped down on Phil's neck. He felt the waves of orgasm wash over him, wave after wave, as Phil found his own release and they both spurted all over Phil's belly and chest.

 

Panting raggedly, Dan pulled back and let himself roll over next to Phil. For a few minutes, they only breathed harshly as they enjoyed the afterglow.

 

"Wow." Dan remarked.

 

"Wow." Phil echoed.

 

"Such orgasm." He replied dazed.

 

"Very sex." His partner concurred.

 

He looked over at Phil, who was looking at him with a dopey grin. He suspected he wore the same expression, in fact he bet his cheeks would start hurting pretty soon. Then Phil started to giggle and before Dan knew it, they both burst out in laughter.

 

He cuddled up to Phil, who wrapped an arm around him. He looked at the mess they'd both created.

 

"For someone who's just showered, you're awfully filthy." Dan teased.

 

Phil quirked an eyebrow at him. "Hm. I suppose you're right. But I have it on good authority that you're a pretty decent cleaner. Maybe you could come with me to the shower and show me how it's done?"

 

"I suppose I could give you a hands-on lesson." He grinned.

 

Phil's second shower of the day took _way_ longer than his first.

 

###

 

"Who are you texting?" Dan asked when they were lazing about on the couch that night. Phil had opted to use Dan's lap as a pillow, while he played a game on the X-box. Dan didn't have much of a view when he looked down, only a tuft of black hair and a phone.

 

"Louise. She's sent  me a few messages. I guess she was pretty worried."

 

Dan nodded - not that Phil could see that. "She was. She really cares about you, you know?"

 

"Yeah, she's such a good friend. But I really don't know what to say, she's been asking me about Chloe a lot, ever since those photos got online." He lowered his phone to his chest. "I still don't know how that spread so fast."

 

"Ah, that would be me." A woman's voice sounded.

 

Dan yelped, nearly elbowing Phil in the face when he jerked back. Chloe was sitting in the arm chair across the couch.

 

"How the hell did you get in here!" He yelled at her, clawing to get as far away as he could, though he was already sat on the far end of the couch. Phil scrambled up as well, sitting up to face her.

 

Chloe bypassed Dan's question completely.

 

"It's nice to finally truly meet you, Dan." She said with an enigmatic smile.

 

Phil's eyes shot from Dan to Chloe and back. Dan was scared, he could tell. His eyes were as big as saucers.

 

"Not fucking likewise!" Dan bit back. Chloe smiled on for a few seconds, then turned to Phil.

 

"You've done well on your last job. Very quick and to the point. If I'm not very much mistaken you were able to focus primarily on the heart, though you did waver a bit and took his indigestion as well. Am I correct?"

 

Phil thought back. He hadn't noticed much besides the heart attack, but he had felt a burning in the back of his throat, like a nausea.

 

"I thought that was just my nerves." He confessed. "It was just too hectic to focus a lot."

 

She waved it away. "Not to worry, do you know he hardly even missed it? You'd think someone would notice that and cut back on the cream buns, but not him. He's having pizza right now." She flicked her eyes sideways, as if she was trying to remember something. "With pineapple." She scrunched up her nose. "I'll never understand human beings."

 

"And how many other people died so he can eat pineapple pizza?" Dan shot back. The waver in his voice told Phil that he was sounding braver than he felt.

 

The look Chloe shot him was nothing short of arctic. She stood up slowly, rising as elegantly as if some godly puppet master pulled a string attached to her head. Dan and Phil both shrunk back on the couch.

 

"As much as I will never understand _you_ , you will never understand _me_. Though I must say that only one of us is truly trying." Dan gulped at that, but she continued unperturbed. "I am not some common mercenary or some suited burned-out government clerk who just does what's on the list and doesn't care about the consequences. Everything I _do_ is about the consequences."

 

Her gaze left Dan and focused on Phil.

 

"My goal is not to cause suffering. My goal is to minimize it in humanity's incredibly intricate and long-stretching time on the planet. You may have seen seven children dead and a rude, callous man alive, but I see thousands of lives across the whole history of humanity just through these two events. I cannot explain it to you, simply because your human brains cannot comprehend the scale that I see. It is sad, that I need you. Have you any idea how degrading it is for a deity to rely on a human being's help? An ant, a fleck in the dust of time, but I do need you to do your work, it shames me to say. We'll be rid of each other very soon, though."

 

She walked over to the couch and laid her hand to the side of Phil's head before he could even move. A sharp pain shot through him, making him cry out.

 

"There's your visual, since you can't even do that by yourself. Brain hemorrhage. You'll know when and where."

 

With that, she vanished into thin air.

 

Dan immediately shot up and moved over to Phil's side. He touched Phil's arm. "Oh my god, are you okay?" He asked, panic in his voice.

 

"Yeah." Phil grunted. "Don't worry, it's already gone away. That's just her way of showing me how to do my job. Best boss ever, huh?"

 

Dan let out a tremulous breath and sagged into the cushions.

 

"If you text Louise about her... tell her that Chloe is a fucking test pilot for a broom factory."

 

Despite everything, Phil let out a huff of a laugh. Trust Dan to make light of a heavy situation. Though that didn't make the worry gnawing in his gut disappear...

 

_We'll be rid of each other very soon._

 

How soon? And... how?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting quite close to the end now! Not sure how many chapters left... I'd planned more for this chapter but they just ended up in bed. Oh well.
> 
> Reviews give me life. Thanks to everyone who's commented!


	15. Bishop's Stortford

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long delay... I'm really sorry. Whenever I promise a quick update, it's like my brain is seeing that as 'work' and my evil procrastination side comes out and sabotages me until I am a self-loathing ball of nerves. Yay me. Sometimes I wonder how I'm even a barely-functioning human being at all.

Chapter 15

 

Moans and breathy gasps filled the air as two lovers took their time leisurely exploring each other's bodies. The day was young, the sun only just peeking over the horizon and illuminating the clouds to make them shine a deep silver.

 

Not that the two men were in any way interested in the weather conditions. Honestly, there were basically just three types of weather in the Queen's domain: rain, heavy rain and wet air. Any Brit with basic mental capabilities knew this. No, they were fair more concerned with each other and the types of noises they could draw from one another.

 

Neither of them had planned to be awake this early in the day. Dan had been having a very entertaining dream and Phil... well, that was just plain morning wood. Dan hadn't much cared about the cause of Phil's predicament when a persistent prodding to his thigh had roused him from his dream.  Half asleep he'd turned around and kissed the skin available to him until Phil was awake enough to reciprocate.

 

Lazy mornings like these were the best. There was no need for talk, and when they were sweaty and spent, they sunk back into sleep. It was bliss.

 

Finally, after what felt like - and may have been - hours, their moans turned to groans and their gasps announced a pleasurable sort of urgency. Movements turned erratic and with shouts muffled by the other's body, they fell apart.

 

Phil didn't fall asleep this time.

 

This was the third morning they had woken up like this. After Chloe's last visit and her instructions to Phil, nothing had happened for a little while. Two whole days and nothing had happened. It was starting to worry him.

 

"Maybe I missed something." He mused to the ceiling.

 

"Hmm?"

 

Dan, halfway off to dreamland again, cracked open an eye from where he lay snuggled up to Phil. Dan was a cuddler. Go figure.

 

"Maybe I missed a clue. Like some gold, you know?"

 

Phil frowned as he tried to remember anything out of sort over the past few days. It was... difficult. His life was anything but normal anymore, so his sense of reference was completely shot. Usually happens when your life is turned upside down because of a freaky lady calling herself Fate and getting powers that would make the lesser X-Men feel rather jealous. Oh, and the whole "I'm totally hooking up with my best friend and I'm stupidly in love" thing. There was that. Life was strange as of late.

 

Dan propped himself up on an elbow, looking quite awake now.

 

"Can we make a new rule? Only happy subjects when we're naked?"

 

Phil snorted, but turned serious when he saw Dan's face.

 

"Hey..." He stretched out an arm and Dan accepted the unspoken invitation to lay back down. "Sorry I dragged all this mess into our relationship. If I could make it stop, I would."

 

He felt Dan smile against his chest.

 

"Yeah... I know. But let's just make sure we don't let it consume our whole life, okay? We need moments for just us... just ignore the world until 10 AM, okay?"

 

Phil brought his arms up to hug Dan closer.

 

"Deal." He grinned. "Just as long as you know that you're my world. 24/7."

 

"You're so damn cheesy." Dan whispered, but Phil could tell he was pleased.

 

###

 

Louise would never claim she had a sixth sense, per se. Though she wouldn't bother to deny it if someone brought it up either. It was just her cross to bear.

 

Two of her friends had been on her mind much more than usual. After the strange phone call she'd had with Phil, about the girl he'd been seen with, she'd had an unsettling sense of foreboding. Even though Phil had assured her, when he dutifully replied to each of her many worried texts, that everything was fine and that she shouldn't worry.

 

The past few days, Louise had been able to narrow down her concerns. She was sure he was hiding something. Because Phil usually was a chatterbox. He would rather call than text - she'd known him long enough for that. And after a few texts, he would usually invite her to hang out and chill, so they could catch up in person.

 

And Dan had also been dodgy as fuck. He wasn't nearly as good a liar as he hoped to be. Louise had dropped hints that she'd be in the neighborhood, that she'd love to catch up in real life, but Dan had ignored every silent invitation to meet up. And when she asked about Phil, he became downright curt. Once she'd made the mistake to inquire after the ex, the blonde girl. Dan had asked her not to bring up that girl when she talked to Phil and that was that. No further explanation. Just 'drop it'. Yeah, she'd heard that... from both of them. It was definitely fishy.

 

She steered her car onto the exit for Bishop's Stortford and she felt herself grow lighter when she saw the town sprawled out in the distance. She was meeting a friend for dinner and she'd visited this town many times over the past few years. She knew she definitely could use some distraction right about now.

 

She pulled up to their favorite restaurant - more of a nice pub, if she was honest - just within the town's borders. Scanning the car park, she didn't see her friend's car yet. A glance at the clock told her she was early, so no surprise there. She parked her car next to a ratty old beater, suddenly feeling rather posh herself when she saw the rust and the dents of the other car.

 

Looking in the rearview mirror, she quickly fixed a few wayward strands of blonde hair and put on a bit more blush on her cheeks. War paint approved, she headed inside.

 

###

 

The hearth in the middle of the pub roared merrily, flooding the room with heat and light. Louise looked around - by the fire there were two empty sofas. That'd be a good place to wait for her friend.

 

Louise took off her jacket and made herself comfortable. A waiter took her order for a diet coke and she observed the other occupants in the room. It wasn't too busy, as it was still too early for dinner and too late for lunch. She looked over to the entrance when the door swung open. In strode a blonde girl in stiletto's and a summer dress.

 

Louise's mouth went dry.

 

"You don't mind if I sit here? I'm just waiting for a friend." The girl said when she walked over, gesturing to the couch.

 

"N-not at all." She stammered.

 

 _This was her_. This was the girl that had been seen with Phil. She was wearing the same dress she'd joked about to Dan. This was the girl who'd lied and broken Phil's heart - though she didn't know any more details than that.

 

The girl pulled out a spindle and golden thread and she started spinning it. Louise took her preoccupation as an opportunity to study her. She was wearing a bracelet - or rather it seemed like a thick thread made of the same material she was spinning now, wrapped around her forearm in a figure eight. She was pretty, but that did very little to put Louise's mind at each. She felt... cold. Like this girl was lacking the warm spark of humanity that Phil had in abundance.

 

For the life of her, she couldn't fathom why Phil would even have fallen for her. If he had, well, he must've fallen so hard that he couldn't even see the ice in those grey eyes, she mused. Louise could feel it, as she studied her from across the sofa.

 

Grey eyes suddenly locked with her own. Louise froze.

 

"Is there something wrong?"

 

"Are you the girl who was seen with Phil Lester?" She blurted out before she could help herself. She was just way too curious.

 

"Ah. Yes, that was me." The girl's face gave nothing away. Nothing to hint at what caused Phil's distress. Louise pressed on.

 

"What happened?" A blonde eyebrow raised, making Louise backpedal a little. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking. It's just that Phil seemed upset after you were seen together. I care about him."

 

The girl laid her spindle and thread to the side and stared at the fire in the hearth.

 

"Of course he seemed upset. I'd known he would be. He's very predictable in that way. He's taking it very hard. I don't blame him, of course, but I do worry whether he'll pull through in the end."

 

Cold dread settled in Louise's stomach. In the end? What end?

 

"What do you mean?" She whispered. "What does that -"

 

"Anything to drink, ma'am?" A server interrupted, appearing by Louise's side.

 

The girl waved him away. "No, thank you. I'm just waiting for someone."

 

The waiter nodded his understanding and moved off. The blonde opposite Louise closed her eyes for a fraction of a second, then nodded as well.

 

"Yes. He's done. I'd better go get him." Without another word, she moved off the couch gracefully and was out the door again before Louise had grasped what had happened.

 

"Wait!" She yelled and jumped up. Forgetting her purse and coat, she hurried across the room to follow her out the door.

 

###

 

"I swear you jinxed us this morning." Dan grumbled as he wrapped his arms tighter around himself. He didn't usually give two shits about the weather, but now that Chloe had picked them up and left them in a parking lot on the outskirts of Bishop's Stortford, he found himself caring much more about the weather. Especially in relation to his choice of clothing - being only jeans and a shirt.

 

"You did law - you know I can't be punished for breaking a rule before the rule is set." Phil said, though he didn't sound very convincing when his teeth were chattering. Like Dan, he'd only had on jeans and a shirt.

 

"I said jinx. That's a whole different ball game from law and order, Philly. And you pissed off the witch. With her stupid talk of consequences..." Dan grumbled.

 

Phil ignored him. A flash of gold got his attention, flitting across his field of vision. Down the far end of parking lot a man stepped out of the car.

 

"I think that's him. Come on." He set off. He heard Dan's footsteps hurry up, then fall into step beside him.

 

There were quite a few cars in the parking lot, but only three men were present. That was good. That meant that Phil could do his job without many distractions. It would be a brain hemorrhage, Chloe had told him. He still struggled with brain injuries. The anatomy was just too intricate, even with Chloe's help in visualizing.

 

When they neared the man, they noticed that he started to stumble, coming to a stop before pressing his hands to his temples. A few seconds later, he collapsed.

 

It should shock Phil how calm he felt, how run-of-the-mill this healing felt. With easy determination, he sank to his knees and laid his hands on the man's head, closing his eyes. He remembered Chloe's visualization, the precise location of the injury and then, he let the gold trickle down his arms, down his fingers. A millisecond later, pain hit him like he'd gotten a baseball bat to the brain.

 

He felt Dan's hands grip his shoulder as he curled into himself, groaning as he gripped his head. Just a few seconds, then he'd feel better. He just had to weather this. Tears sprung into his eyes and he gasped as agony rolled through him.

 

"Well done."

 

Chloe's voice, he noted absently. That meant he'd be home soon. That'd be great.

 

The gravel was really starting to hurt his knees.

 

###

 

When Louise wrenched to door open, she looked around to see where the girl had gone. She spotted her, already at the far end of the parking lot. _How had she moved so fast in stiletto's_?

 

Then, the girl halted, looking down and talking to someone. Was someone on the ground? Louise made up her mind - she needed to follow the blonde. She needed answers.

 

Louise hurried across the parking lot, walking around one of the cars to get a better view and -

 

Was that _Phil?_

 

Oh God. It was. She could only just spot him between a van and a car. He was kneeling and he had his hands pressed to his temples and... yes, those were tears on his cheek.

 

She couldn't see much else, only the side of Phil's face, the rest obscured by cars, but she could definitely tell that something was wrong. He looked completely in agony. Her heart broke at the sight of him.

 

Rage filled her then, rage at this strange, cold blonde who was standing, looking down at him, not even offering an ounce of support. This was her fault. And Louise wanted to make her pay.

 

Furiously, she readied herself for confrontation. Before she could move however, a car pulled up in front of her, honking the horn merrily.

 

"Hi!"

 

For a second, her brain was too caught up in recent events to fully process the new person. But then her brain started working again. It was her friend. The one she was meeting for dinner.  Right.

 

"Oh. Er. Hello." She said distractedly. She tried to peer around the body of the car, but the vehicle had pulled up so close to her that she could hardly see further down the parking lot.

 

"You did remember we were meeting, right? Where's your coat?"

 

"Er, yeah, I just... I just need to... check something."

 

"Are you okay?"

 

Louise didn't bother to answer. She needed to see Phil. She scrambled to get around the car, but when she finally had eyes on the spot she'd seen him and the girl last, she found another man kneeling there.

 

The stranger looked at her from his kneeling position. He had sleek black hair and pale skin and a scared, confused expression marred his face.

 

Had she really seen Phil? Louise was starting to doubt herself now. This man, upon closer inspection, looked nothing like Phil, despite dark hair and pale skin. Had she been so preoccupied that she was starting to see things, confusing a complete stranger for her friend?

 

She and the stranger looked at each other for a while, both of them sharing confusion, neither exactly sure what had just happened in the car park.

 

"Hey... earth to Louise?"

 

Her friend had parked and exited her car, now laying a gentle hand on her arm.

 

"I need a glass of wine." She muttered. _And answers_ , she mentally added. Her friend laughed and pushed her in the direction of the pub.

 

"Well, you won't find wine out here." She giggled.

 

 _No_. Louise mused. _Nor answers_.


	16. In which Dan struggles with clothes and it's really a problem

Chapter 16

 

"How's your head?"

 

Phil didn't reply. The fingers carding through his hair had made him melt into the couch. The low pulsing ache in his head had already receded to a minor annoyance and Dan's careful ministrations smoothed over any recollection of pain. He gave a satisfied hum, hoping that Dan would gather enough information from that noise. He didn't want to use any more muscles than absolutely necessary.

 

Dan seemed to accept his barely vocal response. His hand kept the same soothing motions, a slow,  almost a feather of a touch of his tips of his fingers, then the lightest scrape of his short trimmed nails when he reached the nape of the neck, a second of nothing before he felt fingertips reappear on the top of his head. It was freaking heaven.

 

The soundtrack to yet another episode of Buffy started on the tv. Even though Phil wasn't watching, Dan had still grabbed the box set and put it on. He'd begun to notice these little things over the past few days, maybe weeks. Dan wasn't about grand gestures. He was about reassuring comfort. A soft smile, an extra cup of coffee that Phil had just been thinking of making, a light hearted joke whenever Phil's mood started to darken. It had honestly surprised him a bit how gentle and caring Dan had been lately. Having him as 'just' a best friend hadn't really allowed for this level of intimacy. Now he got to explore Dan as something more. More than a friend. And something told him, even more than a boyfriend. Was soul mate a cheesy description? Still, it felt closest to what he was feeling.

 

_Bzzzt_

 

Dan's fingers hesitated in their path when his cell phone buzzed.

 

_Bzzzt_

 

"Ugh."

 

Phil snorted. "You make it sound like you've just spotted a giant cockroach." He mumbled, not even opening his eyes.

 

_Bzz- Bleep_

 

Dan had denied the call, then.

 

"Who was it?"

 

"Louise."

 

Now Phil cracked open an eye and lifted his head.

 

"Louise? Why'd you block Louise?"

 

Dan - upside down from Phil's point of view - raised an eyebrow. "I was just having a nice moment with my boyfriend. I don't need anyone interrupting me."

 

"Aw, but Louise is our friend. You wouldn't leave your friends hanging, would you?"

 

Dan scoffed and rolled his eyes. As if to reiterate his point, he scooted down the couch until he was stretched out next to Phil. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, seeing as they were both a couple of beanstalks, but Phil just saw that as an added bonus.

 

"Hi." Dan said when they were nose to nose. Phil almost lost himself in the big brown eyes, but then found his lips and they exchanged a long, slow kiss that left them breathless.

 

Hands started wandering lower, slipping under their shirts to seek skin. Dan gasped when a thumb brushed his nipple. Then Phil's hands were gone - until they started tugging on Dan's shirt.

 

"Off." He demanded, voice rough. Dan wasted no time to comply, wrestling it over his head and throwing it aside. He sat up and straddled Phil's legs, staring down at him.

 

No matter how many times Phil had seen Dan shirtless, it still took his breath away. He gazed up, taking in every inch of skin he could. He let his hands follow his eyes, feeling the warmth, the life underneath them.

 

"Beautiful." He said hoarsely. To his delight, Dan blushed, crimson lighting up his face but also his torso.

 

"You really blush all over." The words were almost reverent, but they clearly had an impact on Dan, whose wide smile he felt on his lips a second later, when Dan bent down to kiss him again.

 

Their kiss grew more heated quickly. Dan now fought with Phil's button up shirt, trying to get the finicky buttons to open, so they could both be shirtless. Phil felt a frustrated groan against his lips when the garment wouldn't cooperate. Maybe he should stop wearing clothes that were a pain to get off quickly. Lord knew they'd both cursed their skinny jeans a time or two or twenty over the past few days.

 

Phil left Dan to it. Really, it was a bit mean, but Dan was squirming so nicely in his lap and he could freely let his own hands wander over naked skin and just indulge himself a little bit.

 

_Bzzzt_

 

That was Phil's phone. He froze. Dan kept kissing.

 

_Bzzzt_

 

Dan withdrew and grabbed the phone.

 

"Louise again." He growled. He made to throw the phone away, but Phil took hold of his wrist.

 

"Wait." Dan shot him a clear _are you kidding me_. "No, seriously Dan, something might be up. She never rings twice in a row."

 

Dan dropped the phone on his chest and held up his hands. "Alright, alright, shouldn't leave your friends hanging." His tone made it clear what he thought about that. Phil answered the call anyway.

 

"Hi?"

 

 _" Phil! How are you?"_ Louise's voice sounded nervous to his ears.

 

"Er, yeah, alright. Why are you calling? Is something wrong?" Phil asked. Dan was still sitting on top of him, carefully studying him to see if anything was indeed wrong.

 

_"No, not with me, but I thought, maybe... are you sure you're okay?"_

 

Dan rolled his eyes, which Phil understood as a _not this again_. Knowing Louise was not in any trouble, he took Phil's preoccupation with the phone call as an opportunity to freely work at those damned buttons. With a finger, he pushed at Phil's chin to tilt his head back and with his tongue between his teeth - his own teeth this time - he resumed his battle. This time he was more successful, as the top button yielded to him and he moved onto the next.

 

"I'm fine, Louise. Why wouldn't I be?" Phil responded.

 

_"Look, maybe it's weird, but I swear I saw you earlier today. In Bishop's Stortford."_

Dan chose that moment to press his lips to Phil's neck, making Phil suck in a breath. With a hand, he tried to push Dan away, but he wasn't yielding.

 

 _"Phil?"_ Louise sounded concerned.

 

"I... no, you can't have. I wasn't there." His voice was tight, trying to sound calm while Dan enjoyed himself.

 

More buttons made way for Dan's greedy hands, as he went lower and lower.

 

_"But... I saw that girl there. The one you went out with?"_

 

"Oh?"

 

He tried to sound casual, he really did, but Dan was currently paying very much attention to a nipple. He tried again to push him away - without much success.

_"We got to talking. She said... she said you were having a really difficult time. She was so worried about you."_

That made Phil's eyes snap open.

 

"Louise. I'm fine, okay? I don't want _anyone_ meddling and spreading stories, okay?"

 

Dan was in his own little world, kissing down Phil's sternum. _Stop it_ he mouthed at him, looking stern. This phone call was starting to sound much too serious for Phil's liking and he really couldn't appreciate the distraction right now.

 

” _She sounded concerned! And I am too. You've been really off lately and I think I really did see you there in the car park, so why would you lie abo-"_

Dan's tongue slipped lower, teasing at his belly button.

 

"Stop it!" Phil hissed.

 

Louise fell silent. Dan stopped.

 

For a few seconds, everything stopped.

 

"Louise... I'm sorry, that wasn't..." Phil stammered, pressing a hand to his forehead in frustration.

 

"Phil, I'm really sick of this." Louise snapped. "I'm going to come over and we are going to have a good long talk."

 

"Louise! No, I -" Phil started, but before he could finish she had already hung up the phone. "Shit!"

 

Dan was still straddling him, but he had his hand to his mouth in shock. Phil motioned for him to get off and he wormed his way out from under him, throwing his phone on the table in irritation. Without another word, he stalked out of the living room.

 

"Phil!" Dan yelled, hurrying after him. "Phil, I'm sorry, I just meant it as a bit of fun, okay?"

 

Phil spun around in the middle of the hallway.

 

"She met Chloe! And now Chloe is giving her weird messages. I needed to handle that phone call, Dan! Now Louise is going to come over and demand an explanation!"

 

Dan stepped back in shock. "I-I'm sorry... I couldn't hear what she was s-"

 

"Come on, I tried to stop you! Why didn't you take that seriously? We've managed without groping for seven years, you couldn't wait five more minutes?" Phil snapped.

 

That stunned Dan into silence. Phil looked at him, his gaze a mixture of sadness and anger.

 

"Put on your shirt." He said, voice flat. "Louise will be here soon."

 

###

 

Dan felt guilty. He was just having a good time, teasing Phil, assuming Louise had just called for a chat. He didn't know that she'd called about stupid freaking Chloe. He understood that Phil was pissed and he felt responsible for the escalation.

 

His shirt had landed on one of the dining chairs. Distractedly, he snatched it off.

 

He needed to go to Phil. They would need to come up with a plan and Dan would do his very best to smooth this shit over. It wouldn't be easy. If Louise was troubled enough to personally come over and demand an explanation, she wouldn't leave until she was satisfied. He knew his friend well enough for that.

 

He peeled his shirt inside out as he stepped out of the living room and managed to get one arm through the sleeves. As he tried to worm his head through the neck hole, he noticed that he was putting it on backwards. With some clever maneuvering and some stumbling, he twisted it round over his head, directing his arms through the correct sleeves.

 

In his fight with the shirt, however, Dan had unknowingly careened towards the staircase.

 

The shirt slipped over his head - and his foot found only air.

 

And then Dan's heart dropped.

 

The stairway seemed like a gaping abyss beneath him, but one that quickly lurched up to meet him. With a shout of fear, he fell forward and tumbled down the stairs. First his shoulder slammed into a step and then the world was turned upside down and whirled around him as he rolled and rolled. His knee, his hip, another shoulder, he hit almost every step on the way down. His body was screaming in pain - or was that him making the noise? One last step he felt - right on his neck and he heard a sickening _crack_.

 

At least he couldn't feel his body anymore, he thought dazedly.

 

"Dan! Oh my God!"

 

Why was Phil so blurry? He hadn't always looked like that, had he?

 

The image shifted.

 

He saw a light. Then a woman. Strange, Dan thought, that was almost like his first memory.

 

The image shifted.

 

His parents - in his old home. God, they looked young. "Say papa!" His dad cooed at him. "But I want him to say mama first!" His mother laughed.

 

The images came faster now. His primary school. His grandparents. A teacher he hadn't thought about in years.

 

"Dan! Dan, can you hear me? Oh my God..." The voice was far away, detached from the images. He couldn't really place it.

 

His first girlfriend. His first real fight with his parents. Holidays in strange, far places. His first video game.

 

Seeing a raven haired boy on the internet and experiencing his first, completely heart-wrenching crush on someone who didn't even know he was alive. Phil. It was Phil.

 

Meeting Phil. Getting to know him. Moving in with him. Loving him from afar.

 

The images sped up again as the memories  became more recent. Touring. A book. Hundreds and hundreds of videos. Late nights just talking about everything and nothing and his heart expanding all the while. Love spread through him as his life with Phil flashed by.

 

The girl. A dark cloud threateningly hanging overhead. The golden bracelet and the slate grey eyes. And Phil in the middle of it all. Finding Phil and finally finding love. Real love. A love that made the cloud dissipate and return to the heavens.

 

The images slowed to a halt. His life in flashes. And it terrified Dan, because suddenly the realization dawned that he was dying. Dying while Phil was coming down the stairs like in slow-motion.

 

No. No, he wouldn't die. He couldn't die, could he? He was young still and it was just a tumble down the stairs, wasn't it? Yet intellectually, he knew that he was done.

 

Phil sank down on his knees beside him and reality returned to its normal speed. Dan couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he couldn't feel. But as Phil extended his hands and lowered them to where Dan's neck was, he remembered.

 

Phil couldn't heal anyone this close to death. Dan knew he was on the verge and he knew that Phil would not be able to come back if he healed him.

 

 _NO!_ He tried to scream at him. He tried to fight, to resist, roll away if possible, but he couldn't.

 

_No no no no no please let me go before he starts to heal. He can't die. I'll die for him. Let him live. Let him live._

 

But then he saw Phil's face scrunch up in pain and he felt a peculiar sensation he could only describe as _gold_ enter his neck. He tried to fight it, as he'd seen Phil try to direct the gold.

 

_I don't want it. Don't heal me, don't take him. Please, please, please._

 

The gold hesitated, oscillating between Phil and him.

 

Then, everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think!


	17. My sad goodbye

Chapter 17

 

When Dan came to, he felt strangely weightless. Like he was somehow detached from his body. What had happened? Where was he? His mind felt odd too, as if he had forgotten something big.

 

He opened his eyes.

 

White.

 

White and light and it was all a bit blurry. Was he dead?

 

 _Wait. Why would I think that?_ He thought to himself. _Why would I be d-_

 

As if a freight train slammed into him, his memories returned. The stairs, falling, the pain, bones breaking, his neck... Phil. Holy shit, Phil. He remembered him running down the stairs, hands at his neck. Phil had tried to heal him, he'd felt it. He'd tried to reject it, to save Phil... had he been successful then? If he really was dead, did Phil fail in his endeavor and survived?

 

Gods, he hoped it. Being dead wasn't so sucky up until now, but still, Phil deserved to live. He'd probably blame himself. If Dan knew just one thing about Phil it was that he had the biggest heart.

 

The sound of a door opening interrupted his musings.

 

"Dan!"

 

_Louise? Why..._

 

He turned his head towards the noise and then more senses returned. He felt his head on a pillow, his body covered by a blanket and it was cold, damned cold in this room. His vision cleared as Louise came into view, no longer blurry. Her hair was a mess and there were streaks of make up where tears had run down her cheeks.

 

So... he wasn't dead then. For a moment that pleased him but then...

 

"Phil?" He asked her. What did this mean for Phil? Had Dan failed instead? Pure fear surged through his heart, constricting his throat.

 

"He's still out." Louise said sadly.

 

A relieved grin spread out over Dan's face. Phil was still alive then! He didn't know quite how that worked, how that might have happened, but he didn't care about details right now.

 

"Why are you smiling?"

 

Whoops. Louise's voice sounded tight - not a good sign.

 

"I er... I thought he was dead." Dan confessed. Louise huffed in exasperation.

 

"Only you would be happy to hear your best friend was passed out and in the hospital. He's in worse shape than you are."

 

Dan's grin vanished.

 

"Why? What's wrong with him?"

 

"They didn't really tell me anything, but I heard them talking about a stroke or a heart attack or something. He was way less responsive than you were. They thought you were just passed out. And it seems they were right about that."

 

Alive didn't necessarily mean _okay_. The dread returned, like ice creeping up his arteries, suffocating his heart. He stared blindly at the wall behind Louise. Phil just had to be okay, didn't he?

 

"Dan... what happened?" Louise whispered, her face full of confusion. "There's been all sorts of weird stuff going on with you guys... Phil especially. I kept having these weird conversations with him and I just got so worried about him!"

 

"I'm not... I don't know." Dan stammered. He wasn't about to lay the truth all out for Louise. "But... how did you know we were in the hospital? Does anyone else know?"

 

"No one knows yet. I thought about ringing your parents, but I don't have their numbers. You haven't been here long actually. You've just been out for an hour or so. I found you two at the bottom of the stairs in your house. I was coming over because of that weird conversation with Phil, remember? When you guys didn't open the door, I used my key... and you guys were just laying there. I was so scared, Dan! I thought you were d-d-dead! And when the ambulance came, they were shouting and hurrying and I couldn't understand a thing they were saying..."

 

Louise burst out into fresh tears, burying her face in her hands. Dan sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He didn't want to hear this. He only wanted one thing.

 

"What are you doing?" Louise asked through her tears when she looked up.

 

At the door, Dan turned around. "Going to Phil. Show me the way."

 

###

 

Phil didn't look very different. Same black hair, some pale skin. Maybe a touch more bleak than usual, but no other outward appearance that signified his condition.

 

Dan moved to the bed, leaving Louise by the door. He ran his fingers through the black fringe, grazing over Phil's forehead. He felt really warm, almost burning to the touch. There was a heart rate monitor by the bed, beeping in a slow, sluggish tempo. Dan knew instinctively that a human heart rate should be faster than that, even in sleep. But it was a heartbeat, he reminded himself, and a heartbeat was better than no heartbeat.

 

Footsteps approaching made Dan turn around. A doctor walked in. He was grey-haired and bearded and looked a little miffed. Though when he saw Dan, his eyes lit up.

 

"You must be Mr. Howell." He extended his hand. Dan shook it wearily. "I've been hoping you'd wake up soon and shed some light on what happened."

 

"How's Phil? Is he going to be okay?" Dan demanded. He wasn't going to answer any question before he had an answer to that.

 

The doctor sighed deeply and shrugged. "Well... I certainly hope so. But we can't figure out what made you both collapse. You just seemed to be passed out, but your friend... his heart was racing one moment, then almost shut down completely. Seemed like a heart attack, so the EMT on site administered a dose of adrenaline, to get the heart rate up. Hardly worked, but we've managed to get this weak rhythm back." He waved in the direction of the heart rate monitor, then squinted his eyes at it. "Looks a bit better than half an hour ago."

 

"So he'll get better, right?" Dan perked up hopefully.

 

The doctor held up his hands, holding a folder in one of his hands, as if to say _I don't know_. "Going by these scans, he should be healthy as a horse. Not even the slightest hint of any stroke, heart attack or anything else. Just a good big old heart."

 

"That sounds like him." Dan smiled. He didn't think it very strange that the doctor was having no luck with his examinations, as the cause of Phil's collapse was something completely supernatural.

 

And he had a gut feeling, which he couldn't fully explain, that Phil was going to be alright.

 

###

 

Louise stuck by him for a little while, until she had to pick up her daughter - seeing as it was already late at night when she'd found them. Before she left, Louise asked again if he could remember anything about what had happened. Dan claimed he had no memory at all, just feeling dizzy and light headed all day. Louise left them after that, but only after Dan had sworn to her that he'd call her when there was news.

 

After that, it was still hours before there was any real progress.

 

The heart rate monitor showed that Phil's heartbeat was steadily getting stronger. Dan had an inkling that Phil was on the verge of waking up and he wanted nothing more than to stroke through Phil's hair, watching him and listening to the beeping in the background, a little more strength behind it every hour.

 

But even despite the late hour, doctors came and went, grilling a thoroughly annoyed Dan with endless questions. If they'd eaten anything strange, whether there might have been a gas leak in their apartment (Dan secretly thought that might make a good alibi, so he acquiesced when the doctor suggested he'd have the place inspected). Then the questions went on to allergies, family history, pre-existing conditions, on and on the list of questions went. In the meanwhile, the doctors took so many blood samples from both of them that Dan was starting to suspect the hospital was running a secret vampire sting operation.

 

But after hours, in the deep of the night, the doctors eventually ran out of questions.

 

It seemed as if Phil, in his unconscious state, had sensed that the coast was clear and he finally opened his eyes. Dan had never been so happy to see those gorgeous blue eyes open and scanning the room in confusion.

 

"You made it." Phil whispered when he saw Dan, eyes widening in joy. "You made it." He laughed then.

 

"Yeah, so did you." Dan grinned. His own eyes were getting a little moist, but he didn't care one bit. "And don't ever try to save my life again, okay?"

 

Phil raised an eyebrow. "How about you don't refuse me saving your life again?"

 

"I'm not sure. It seems to have worked out, though, hasn't it?"

 

Phil squeezed his hand. "I'll forgive you this time." And Dan just had to kiss him for that.

 

"Do we know why we survived?" He asked when he pulled back. Phil shook his head. "Do we want to call Chloe and ask what the hell happened?" Dan asked. His boyfriend shook his head again. "Do we want to be glad we're alive and just make out for a bit?" He asked with a smirk.

 

This time his boyfriend nodded.

 

###

 

As they had known she would, Chloe came to them. It was evening, the following day, and visiting hours were almost over. The doctors still hadn't let up on the enigma that was Phil, insisting they'd run every possible test, scan and X-ray. They both thanked their lucky stars for the British healthcare system, otherwise they'd have been broke.

 

The London sun had set early, the room only illuminated by a little lamp on the far end of the room. The boys were cuddled up in the hospital bed, not really talking, just taking comfort in each other at the end of a very strange night and day.

 

"Well done."

 

Phil's eyes flew open and Dan was startled so badly that he fell off the bed with a loud yelp, following by a thud and a groan.

 

"It is alarming to me how often you fall." Chloe observed. "Whether it's chairs, beds or stairs."

 

Dan rubbed his aching butt.

 

"Why don't you help him, Phil." Chloe urged. Phil laid a hand on Dan's butt - completely unabashed - but nothing happened. No surge of gold, no healing rush through his fingers... nothing.

 

"I..." Phil stammered in confusion. "It's not working. It's gone."

 

He looked up at Chloe. "Why?"

 

Chloe smiled - and this time the smile reached her eyes. "Because it's over. You've done it, and you've done it well."

 

"Done... what exactly?" Dan asked when he eased his stinging backside onto the mattress.

 

"The job. This whole ordeal, the healing gift I gave Phil, it was meant for a lot of different jobs. Some you know about, like people who needed to be healed because they still had a role in Fate. Others were more vague. More of the indirect effect, the butterfly effect if you will. For instance, the doctor on your case now does not know what's going on. He'll reach out to a specialist from Italy and they'll fall in love. Destined to happen. That's just one of the millions of little consequences you, together, will have on the world." Chloe explained. She pondered for a moment. "Though there are people who have been Fated to help you in this journey, like your friend Louise."

 

Phil frowned. "Louise? She's just a friend. How was she Fated?"

 

Chloe raised an eyebrow at him. "More than once actually. Remember when we were seen in the city, when pictures of Phil and me started going around the internet? It was solely meant to get Louise's attention. Because she saw the pictures, she talked Dan into going home in the middle of the night. As I understand it, that led to a very interesting discussion that resulted in a change in relationship status. That needed to happen - actually it was about seven years overdue."

 

"We'll need to get her some flowers or something." Dan joked weakly.

 

"I'm still not understanding it. Why did I have to get these powers? I don't get it." Phil frowned.

 

"Fair enough. You'll have to see it like this. You two, as a couple, are destined for great things. From your careers to your relationships with friends and strangers, together you influence a great deal of people. Enormous amounts. Your influence can be Consequential or Inconsequential to Fate, though a very important part is Consequential. That's why my family was very upset when the threads of Fate were unraveling and it turned out that my sister had made some brash decisions, derailing hundreds of years of consequences that were designed to make humanity better. The biggest unraveling thread was the untimely death of Dan Howell. Clerical error, of course -"

 

"Of course." Dan affirmed faintly.

 

Chloe looked at Phil. "Anyone with these powers could have saved anyone with injuries that were not immediately fatal. But no matter how we tried to repair the thread, Dan's injury would always turn out fatal, either to him or to the healer. So we needed to find someone selfless enough, someone who would without question in his heart die for Dan Howell. And that was you."

 

Phil blushed a bright red, aware of Dan and Chloe staring at him. He didn't break eye contact with Chloe however.

 

"But it didn't prove to be fatal."

 

Chloe shook her head, blonde hair swaying along. "No. And if I'm honest, there are more people in this world who would die for Dan Howell. His parents, a couple of fans. The problem was that these people were all still Fated, so we needed them for other elements of the big plan. It really was a giant mess, I can tell you. We spent years and years on repairs. And it took years to work out a plan that wouldn't fail. Up until last night, I was not certain it would work. I was very pleased that it did."

 

Chloe paused for a bit, reveling in her own success. Then she continued.

 

"What we did was find an escape, some hole in the net. No matter how we tried to spin it, Dan or the healer dies. There was only one possibility: the purest essence of humanity, true love. True love can not be manipulated by Fate, allowed to run its own story. These are Fated unions, quite rare, and they should not be threatened. I circumvented the laws to make Phil the healer who I did not instruct to heal Dan, so I did not actively manipulate. Phil made this decision on his own. Dan refused, knowing it would kill Phil. You both showed your true love and the oldest law of your universe kicked in. Your union was threatened and you saved each other. On the other hand, your union was manipulated - not actively, but all the same manipulated - so there was a good chance that Phil would have died because I made him the healer and urged you two into a relationship through Louise's interference. I estimated that Phil would like hover on the edge of death, either dying or healing. That's where Louise's second interference came in. I needed to make sure she came over right at the time of the accident, so that she could call an ambulance. That shot of adrenaline may have just been the edge we needed. Because you've survived - without any damage as well."

 

She looked them both over. They were sitting on the bed, stunned by her explanation.

 

"Remember, that though my goal was to save Dan Howell, that he is only complete with Phil Lester. I'm very proud of you both. And I am thankful. Very thankful. You are done now. You are free to live your lives, though you will have an impact on millions of people for the rest of your lives. You'll live long, and you'll be happy. You deserve to know that much. You'll have a well-deserved wonderful life together. "

 

With a sad smile, she nodded to both of them, then vanished into thin air.

 

Tears were rolling down their cheeks.

 

They didn't speak, they just hugged each other, trying to process all that they had heard.

 

###

 

~ A day later ~

 

The doctor glared at the test results again as if they'd personally insulted his mother.

 

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with you." He growled, the conclusion clearly conflicting with his own logical brain. "You had, what seemed to be, some type of heart attack but there's absolutely not a single sign of damage."

 

"I apologize." Phil said dryly. The doctor rolled his eyes at him.

 

"You said there might have been a gas leak in the apartment but it's all cleared now?" The doctor pointed at Dan. When Dan nodded, the doctor ripped another stack of papers off his clipboard, flipping through them angrily in search of answers, muttering under his breath how none of it made sense. Dan and Phil shared a secret look and tried to hold their laughter. Both of them knew the doctor could search and search again, but he wouldn't find any answers. Only they knew what had truly happened.

 

"Well... I can't really keep you here. I just can't figure out what's wrong. If you do get any symptoms, whether it's pains or just a running nose, I want you to come straight back here, okay? I can't stand not knowing what caused this."

 

"So I can go home now?" Phil asked excitedly.

 

"You've got this guy right here to keep an eye on you, right?" The doctor nodded in Dan's direction.

 

Dan moved closer to Phil, holding his hand and intertwining their fingers. He smiled at the doctor.

 

"Don't worry. He's in good hands."

 

They both were.

 

 

~~~FINISHED~~~

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. The end! And a happy ending as promised. I have to say, this story thoroughly kicked my ass, it was very difficult to monitor the different threads and tie up loose ends. May have something to do with the actual threads in the story, lol.
> 
> Please give me some feedback! I hope I've concluded it in a way that makes sense!


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